V-.-* 

























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































A TREASURY 






























I 






l 







A TREASURY oP VERSE 
for LITTLE ’ CHILDREN 


SELECTED li/ 

to 


M»G’EDGAR^ 



ILLUSTRATED B/ 













All rights rt serve a 


r;„ 


'X O 


Printed in Great Britain by W. W. Curtis, Ltd., Coventry 


PREFATORY NOTE 


T HE COMPILER desires to offer thanks to 
authors and owners of copyright poems for 
permission to use the following in this 
collection. To: 

Mrs Allingham for The Fairies , Robin Redbreast , 
and Wishing , by Wm. Allingham; Miss M. Betham- 
Edwards for A Child's Hymn ; Messrs Bickers and 
Son for The Elf and the Dormouse , by Oliver Herford; 
The Bobbs-Merrill Company for A Sea-Song from the 
Shore , by James Whitcomb Riley; Mrs Hubert Brand 
for Baby Seed Song ; Miss Kate Louise Brown for 
Dandelion and The Tree Buds; Mrs A. J. Burr for 
Mother Moon; Mr William Canton for She was a 
Treasure , she was a Sweet; Messrs Chatto and Windus 
for Baby and The Wind and the Moon , by Dr George 
MacDonald; Mrs Conkling and Messrs Frederick 
A. Stokes Company for Butterfly , Dandelion , and Little 
Snail , by Hilda Conkling; Mr Walter de la Mare and 
Messrs Constable & Co., Ltd., for Then; Mrs Eden 
and Mrs Ward for A Friend in the Garden , Big 
Smithy and The Willow-many by Mrs J. H. Ewing; 
Miss Rose Fyleman and Messrs Methuen & Co., Ltd., 
for Fairies from “Fairies and Chimneys ”; Miss Rose 
Fyleman for The Fairy Tailor; Mr Norman Gale for 
The Fairy Book and Mustard and Cress; Professor 
I. T. Headland and Messrs Methuen & Co., Ltd., for 
A Chinese Nursery Rhyme , from “Home Life in 
China”; Messrs Houghton, Mifflin & Co. for The 

5 


The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

Gymnastic Clock and The Saturdays ' Party in Fairy¬ 
land. , by Mary Caroline Davies; Discontent , by Sarah 
Orne Jewett; Daisies , by Frank Dempster Sherman; 
A Night with a Wolf, by Bayard Taylor; Chanticleer , 
by Celia Thaxter; and The Sandman , by Margaret 
Vandegrift; Mr John Lane and Messrs Charles 
Scribner’s Sons for Wynken, Blynken , and Nod , by 
Eugene Field; Mr John Lane for Wonderful World , 
by Wm. B. Rands, and The World's Music , by 
Gabriel Setoun; Messrs Longmans, Green & Co. for 
Foreign Lands , The Lamplighter , and The Little 
Land , from “A Child’s Garden of Verses,” by Robert 
Louis Stevenson; Mr E. V. Lucas for Snow in Town , 
by Rickman Mark; Messrs Macmillan & Co., Ltd., 
for The Walrus and the C arpenter, from “Through 
the Looking-Glass,” by Lewis Carroll; Messrs 
Maunsel and Roberts, Ltd., for If I had a Broomstick , 
by P. R. Chalmers; Judge Parry for I would like you 
for a Comrade ; Laura E. Richards for Prince Tatters 
and A Nursery Song; Mrs Annie D. G. Robinson for 
A Good Thanksgiving and Little Sorrow , by Marian 
Douglas; Messrs Charles Scribner’s Sons for One , 
Two , Three , by Henry Cuyler Bunner; Messrs F. 
Warne & Co. for The Owl and the Pussy Cat, from 
“Nonsense Songs and Stories,” by Edward Lear; Miss 
Anna B. Warner for Daffy-down-dilly; Mr Fred. E. 
Weatherly for The Gray Doves' Answer; Mrs 
Marion St John Webb for The Nugly Little Man and 
The Sunset Garden; and Mrs fTrida Wolfe and Messrs 
Sidgwick & Jackson, Ltd., for Hidden y from “The 

Orange Cat.” 

6 



Foreign Lands 

T^obert Louis Steven¬ 

PAGE 


son 

11 

The Tree Buds 

Kate Louise Brown 

14 

Long Time Ago 

U nknown 

16 

A Chinese Nursery Rhyme L T. Headland 

18 

She was a Treasure 

IVilliam Canton 

19 

Daisies 

F . Dempster Sherman 

21 

The Rainbow Fairies 

Lizzie M. Hadley 

24 

The New Moon 

Eliza L. C. Follen 

26 

The Elf and the Dormouse Oliver Her ford 

28 

Butterfly 

Hilda Conkling 

31 

Dandelion 

Hilda Conkling 

32 

Little Snail 

Hilda Conkling 

33 

Good-night and Good¬ 



morning 

Lord Houghton 

34 

The Lost Doll 

Charles Kingsley 

37 

The Nugly Little Man 

Marion St John JVebb 

39 

Hidden 

ffrida IVolfe 

41 

The Fairies 

Sybil Morford 

43 

One, Two, Three 

Henry C uyler Bunner 

45 

A Boy’s Song 

James Hogg 

49 

Dandelion 

Kate Louise Brown 

52 

The Fairy Tailor 

Bose Fyleman , 

54 


7 
























The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 


Very Nearly! 

Queenie Scott-Hopper 

PAGE 

56 

The Butterfly’s Ball 

William Roscoe 

58 

Wishing 

William Allingham 

64 

Putting the World to Bed 

Esther W. "Buxton 

66 

The Gymnastic Clock 

M. C. ‘Davies 

67 

The Sunset Garden 

Marion St John W*,bb 

68 

Baby 

George MacDonald 

69 

Twinkle, twinkle, Little Star 

Jane Taylor 

72 

Wonderful World 

William B. Bands 

75 

Fairies 

Rose Fyleman 

77 

A Nursery Song 

The World’s Music 

Laura E. "Richards 

79 

Gabriel Setoun 

81 

A Child’s Hymn 

M. Betham-Edwards 

85 

The Railway Tunnel 

Queenie Scott-Hopper 

87 

DafTy-down-dilly 

Anna B. Warner 

89 

The Fairy Book 

Norman Gale 

92 

Grasshopper Green 

I would like you for a 

U nknown 

94 

Comrade 

Judge Barry 

95 

The Violet 

Jane Taylor 

96 

The Poppy 

How doth the Little Busy 

Jane Taylor 

97 

Bee 

Isaac Watts 

98 

Robin Redbreast 

William Allingham 

99 

How the Leaves came down 

Susan Coolidge 

101 

A Night with a Wolf 

Bayard Taylor 

103 

To the Ladybird 

U nknown 

106 

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod 

Eugene Field 

107 

A Dream 

William Blake 

110 

A Visit from St Nicholas 

Clement C. Moore 

112 

The Willow-man 

3 

Juliana H. Ewing 

117 


The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 


The Spider and the Fly 
Baby Seed Song 
The Fairy Folk 
Water Jewels 
Chanticleer 

A Sea-song from the Shore 

Mustard and Cress 
The Lamplighter 

0 

The Pedlar’s Caravan 
Seven Times One 
Pretty Cow 
Discontent 
The Lark’s Grave 
Birds’ Nests 

The Owl and the Pussy-cat 

Big Smith 

The Fairies 

Jog on, Jog on 

Little Sorrow 

Suppose 

Cradle Song 

The Gray Doves’ Answer 
How the Little Kite learned 
to fly 

Little Gottlieb 
A Prayer 

The Bee and the Lily 
Prince Tatters 
The Frost 


PAGE 

Mary Howitt 121 

E. Nesbit 126 

Robert M. Bird 128 

Mary F. Butts 131 

Celia Thaxter 132 

yames Whitcomb 

Bjley 134 

Norman Gale 138 

F°bert Eouis Steven¬ 
son 139 

U r illiam B. F a ^ds 141 

yean Ingelow 144 

yane Taylor 147 

Sarah Orne y ewett 148 
Thomas Westwood 151 

Unknown 153 

Edward Lear 156 

yuliana H . Ewing 159 
William Allingham 163 
William Shakespeare 168 
Marian Douglas 169 
Fanny van Alstyne 172 

Lord Tennyson 174 

Fred . E. Weatherly 175 

Katharine Pyle 111 

Phoebe Cary 179 

Unknown 185 

Thomas Westwood 186 

Laura E. FE hards 188 

Hannah F. Gould 191 


The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 


Snow in Town 

!pickman Mark 

PAGE 

194 

Then 

JValter de la Mare 

196 

The Saturdays’ Party in 



Fairyland 

M. C . Davies 

197 

Lullaby of an Infant Chief 

Sir IValter Scott 

199 

Among the Nuts 

U nknown 

201 

A Friend in the Garden 

Juliana H . Ewing 

203 

Queen Mab 

Thomas Hood 

205 

The Shepherd 

kVilliam Blake 

209 

The Lamb 

kVilliam Blake 

210 

The Sea Princess 

Katharine Pyle 

212 

The Little Land 

Pobert Louis Steven¬ 



son 

216 

The Walrus and the Carpen¬ 



ter 

Lewis Carroll 

221 

The Fairies of the Caldon 



Low 

Mary Howitt 

228 

If I had a Broomstick 

"Patrick P. Chalmers 

234 

A Good Thanksgiving 

Marian Douglas 

236 

Try Again 

fVilliam Hickson 

240 

At Night in the Wood 

Nancy M. Hayes 

242 

The Grey Squirrels 

kVilliam Howitt 

244 

The Wind and the Moon 

George MacDonald 

248 

Mother Moon 

Amelia J. Burr 

252 

The Sandman 

Margaret Vandegrift 

254 



P* into the cherry tree 
Who should climb but little me? 

I held the trunk with both my hands 
And looked abroad on foreign lands. 


11 





























The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

I saw the next door garden lie, 

Adorned with flowers, before my eye, 
And many pleasant places more 
That I had never seen before. 

I saw the dimpling river pass 
And be the sky’s blue looking-glass; 
The dusty roads go up and down 
With people tramping into town. 

If I could find a higher tree 
Farther and farther I should see, 

To where the grown-up river slips 
Into the sea among the ships. 

To where the roads on either hand 
Lead onward into fairy land, 

Where all the children dine at five, 
And all the playthings come alive. 

T{obert Louis Stevenson 
































pCK-SVBY; Baby, 

Up in a tree, 
Rock-a-by, baby, 
What can we see ? 


Little brown cradles? 
Yes, that is all; 

Little brown cradles 
Never will fall. 


Where are the babies? 
Oh! they are there, 
Tucked in their blankets 
Away from the air. 







The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

Dear little nurslings, 

Quiet all day, 

In their green nightgowns 
Folded away. 

North wind is piping 
Loud lullaby; 

He couldn’t soften 
His voice, did he try. 

Sleep till the springtime 
Brightens the sky. 

Little leaf babies, 

We love you. Good-bye. 

Kate Louise ‘Brown 








NCE there was a little kitty, 
White as the snow; 

In a barn she used to frolic 
Long time ago. 



*6 










The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

In the barn a little mousie 
Ran to and fro, 

For she heard the little kitty 
Long time ago. 

Two black eyes had little kitty, 
Black as a sloe; 

And they spied the little mousie 
Long time ago. 

Four soft paws had little kitty, 
Paws soft as snow; 

And they caught the little mousie 
Long time ago. 

Nine pearl teeth had little kitty, 
All in a row; 

And they bit the little mousie 
Long time ago. 

When the teeth bit little mousie, 
Mousie cried out, “Oh!” 

But she slipped away from kitty 
Long time ago. 


Unknown 



a cwme.se 

OURS€RV RH11€ 


E ran up the candlestick, 

The little mousey brown. 

To steal and eat tallow. 

And he couldn’t get down. 

He called for his grandma, 

But his grandma was in town; 

So he doubled up into a wheel 
And rolled himself down. 

Tvans, by /. T. Headland 

18 
















HE was a treasure; she was a 
sweet; 

She was the darling of the Army 
and the Fleet! 

When—she—smiled 

The crews of the line-of-battle ships went 
wild! 



























The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

When—she—cried— 

Whole regiments reversed their arms and 
sighed! 

When she was sick, for her sake 
The Queen took off her crown and sobbed 
as if her heart would break. 

W illiam Canton 



20 












T evening when I go to bed 
I see the stars shine overhead; 
They are the little daisies white 
That dot the meadow of the 
night. 

And often while I’m dreaming so. 

Across the sky the moon will go; 

It is a lady, sweet and fair, 

Who comes to gather daisies there. 



21 






































The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

For, when at morning I arise, 

There’s not a star left in the skies; 

She’s picked them all and dropped them 
down 

Into the meadows of the town. 

Frank ^Dempster Sherman 

By special arrangement with Messrs Houghton, 

Mifflin iff Co., the authorized publishers of 
Mr Sherman’s poems. 



23 













WO little clouds one summer’s 

day 

Went flying through the sky. 
They went so fast they bumped 
their heads. 

And both began to cry. 



Old Father Sun looked out and said, 
“Oh, never mind, my dears. 

I’ll send my little fairy folk 
To dry your falling tears.” 


✓ 


24 












The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

One fairy came in violet, 

And one in indigo, 

In blue, green, yellow, orange, red— 
They made a pretty row. 

They wiped the cloud tears all away, 
And then, from out the sky. 

Upon a line the sunbeams made, 

They hung their gowns to dry. 

Lizzie M, Hadley 



2 5 








EAR mother, how pretty 
The moon looks to-night! 
She was never so lovely before; 
Her two little horns 
Are so sharp and so bright, 

I hope she’ll not grow any more. 

If I were up there 
With you and my friends, 

I’d rock in it nicely, you’d see. 



























The CHILDREN'S TREASURT 

I’d sit in the middle 

And hold bv both ends; 

7 

Oh, what a bright cradle ’tvvould be ! 

I would call to the stars 
To keep out of the way, 

Lest we should rock over their toes; 

And there I would rock 
Till the dawn of the day. 

And see where the pretty moon goes. 

And there we would stay 
In the beautiful skies. 

And through the bright clouds we would 
roam; 

We would see the sun set, 

And see the sun rise, 

And on the next rainbow come home. 

Eliza L. C. Follen 


27 


The EIP and 

bhe Dormouse 



/i 


'• JJ 


& 


NDER a toadstool 
Crept a wee Elf, 
Out of the rain 
To shelter himself. 

Under the toadstool, 

Sound asleep. 

Sat a big Dormouse 
All in a heap. 



28 





























The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

Trembled the wee Elf, 
Frightened, and yet 

Fearing to fly away 
Lest he got wet. 

To the next shelter— 

Maybe a mile! 

Sudden the wee Elf 
Smiled a wee smile. 

Tugged till the toadstool 
Toppled in two. 

Holding it over him, 

Gaily he flew. 

Soon he was safe home, 

Dry as could be. 

Soon woke the Dormouse— 
“Good gracious me! 

“Where is my toadstool?” 

Loud he lamented. 

And that’s how umbrellas 
First were invented. 


3 ° 


Oliver Herford 





BUTTERFLY 


UTTERFLY, 

I like the way you wear your 
wings. 

Show me their colours, 

For the light is going. 

Spread out their edges of gold, 

Before the Sandman put me to sleep 
And evening murmurs by. 

Hilda Conkling 

31 























LITTLE soldier with the golden 
helmet, 

What are you guarding on my 
lawn ? 

You with your green gun 
And your yellow beard, 

Why do you stand so stiff? 

There is only the grass to fight! 

Hilda Conkling 



32 
























SAW a little snail 

Come down the garden walk. 
He wagged his head this way . . . 
that way . . . 

Like a clown in a circus. 

He looked from side to side 
As though he were from a different country. 
I have always said he carries his house on 
his back . . . 

To-day in the rain 
I saw that it was his umbrella! 

Hilda Conklin g 

c 33 





















fair little <£irl under a tree. 
Sewing as lon£ as her eyes could see: 















34 















The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

Then smoothed her work, and folded it right, 
And said, “Dear work, Good-night! Good¬ 
night !” 

Such a number of rooks came over her head, 
Crying, “Caw! caw!” on their way to bed: 
She said, as she watched their curious flight, 
“Little black things, Good-night! Good¬ 
night!” 

The horses neighed, and the oxen lowed, 
The sheep’s “Bleat! bleat!” came over the 
road: 

All seeming to say, with a quiet delight, 
“Good little girl, Good-night! Good-night!” 

She did not say to the sun, “Good-night!” 
Though she saw him there like a ball of 
light; 

For she knew he had God’s time to keep 
All over the world and never could sleep. 

The tall pink foxglove bowed his head— 
The violet curtsied and went to bed; 

And good little Lucy tied up her hair, 

And said on her knees her favourite prayer. 

35 


The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

And while on her pillow she softly lay. 

She knew nothing more till again it was day: 
And all things said to the beautiful sun, 
“Good-morning! Good-morning! our work 
is begun!” 

Lord Houghton 


c GooSi'K[ornin<§!Goocl~morning! our work ie> begunP 


36 









ONCE had a sweet little doll, 
dears, 

The prettiest doll in the world; 
Her cheeks were so red and so 
white, dears, 

And her hair was so charmingly curled. 
But I lost my poor little doll, dears, 

As I played in the heath one day; 

And I cried for her more than a week, dears; 
But I never could find where she lay. 



37 








The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

I found my poor little doll, dears. 

As I played in the heath one day; 

Folks say she is terribly changed, dears, 
For her paint is all washed away, 

And her arms trodden off by the cows, 
dears, 

And her hair not the least bit curled: 
Yet for old sakes’ sake she is still, dears. 
The prettiest doll in the world. 

Charles Kingsley 



38 




’TEND that in the garden 
Lives a nugly little man, 

An’ he always wants to catch me 
If he can—if he can; 

But I ’tend that I am quicker than the 
nugly little man. 

I ’tend he’s often waiting 
In the corner by the gate, 

And he creeps along the shadows, 

But he’s always jus’ too late; 



39 



















The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

An’ I ’tend he never gets me as I’m runnin’ 
through the gate. 


I tend he sits an’ watches 
In the hedge as I go by, 

And he pulls such nugly faces, 

’Cos he thinks he’ll make me cry; 

But I ’tend I always laugh at him, an’ 
whistle goin’ by. 


And sometimes when I’m thinkin’ 

Of the nugly little man, 

An’ it’s gettin’ nearly bedtime, 

Then I wish I’d not began 
A-’tendin’ he was such a nugly nugly little 
man. 


Marion St John ff^ebb 


40 



Y Top is blue and silver, with a 
belt of emerald green 
Most beautiful—about its waist 
so wide, 

growing tired of seeing just what 
everyone has seen, 

And I’d rather have the humming-bird 
inside. 



But I’m 


My Ball is striped with scarlet, he’s a 
splendid one to play, 

He can leap above the trellis on the wall; 


41 
















The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

And I’d simply hate to hurt him, yet I fear 
some time I may— 

Just to find the jolly Bounce that’s in my 
Ball. 

I’ve often watched the Cuckoo coming out— 
he’s very kind, 

He flaps his wings and sings the hour for 
me; 

But if I could go back with him through his 
little house behind 

Where the time is kept, how happy I 
should be! 

I have peered into the Fiddle, but you can’t 
see very far, 

And if only I could wriggle through the 
lid, 

I know I d find the corners where the 
cunning Quavers are, 

And discover where the Semibreves are 

hid. 

ffrida IVlife 


42 




AVE you ever heard the tapping 
of the fairy cobbler men, 

When the moon is shining brightly 
thro’ the branches in the glen? 

Have you seen a crew of goblins in a water- 
lily boat, 

Softly sliding, gently gliding, 

’Mid the rushes tall afloat? 

Have you seen the sleeping goblins ’neath 
the mushrooms on the hills? 

Have you heard the rippling music of the 
tiny fairy rills ? 



t 


43 







The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

Have you seen the looms where spiders 
spin their sparkling silver threads? 

Brightly shining and entwining 

Round the nodding flower heads? 

Have you seen the magic circles where the 
little fairies play, 

From the last soft flush of sunset, till the 
first bright gleam of day? 

Have you seen a band of fairies, with their 
pickaxes so bold, 

Talking gravely, trudging bravely, 

Off to seek for fairy gold ? 

If you want to see the fairies, you must 
visit them at night, 

When the silvery stars are gleaming and 
the moon is shining bright. 

If you make no sound to warn them, you 
will see the fairy-men 

Laughing, singing, harebells ringing, 

While the moonbeams light the glen. 

Sybil Morford 


44 



T was an old, old, old, old lady, 
And a boy that was half-past 
three, 

And the way that they played 
together 

Was beautiful to see. 

She couldn’t go romping and jumping, 
And the boy no more could he, 

For he was a thin little fellow. 

With a thin little twisted knee. 



45 

























The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

They sat in the yellow sunlight, 

Out under the maple tree, 

And the game that they played I’ll tell you, 
Just as it was told to me. 

It was Hide-and-Go-Seek they were playing 
Though you’d never have known it to be— 
With an old, old, old, old lady, 

And a boy with a twisted knee. 

The boy would bend his face down 
On his little sound right knee, 

And he guessed where she was hiding 
In guesses, One, Two, Three. 

“You are in a china closet!” 

He would laugh and cry with glee— 

It wasn’t the china closet, 

But he still had Two and Three. 

“You are up in papa’s big bedroom, 

In the chest with the queer old key,” 

And she said: “You are warm and warmer; 
But you are not quite right,” said she. 


46 






































The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

“It can’t be the little cupboard 

Where mamma’s things used to be— 

So it must be in the clothes-press, gran’ma,” 
And he found her with his Three. 

Then she covered her face with her fingers. 
That were wrinkled and white and wee, 
And she guessed where the boy was hiding, 
With a One and a Two and a Three. 

And they never had stirred from their places 
Right under the maple tree— 

This old, old, old, old lady 

And the boy with the lame little knee— 
This dear, dear, dear, dear old lady, 

And the boy who was half-past three. 

Henry Cuyler Thinner 


From “Poems of H. C. Bunner”; copyright 
1884 , 1892 , 1899 , by Charles Scribner’s Sons. 


48 






HERE the pools are bright and 
deep, 

Where the gray trout lies asleep, 
Up the river and o’er the lea— 
That’s the way for Billy and me. 

Where the blackbird sings the latest, 
Where the Hawthorn blooms the sweetest, 
Where the nestlings chirp and flee— 

That’s the way for Billy and me. 



D 


49 











The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

Where the mowers mow the cleanest, 
Where the hay lies thick and greenest; 
There to trace the homeward bee— 
That’s the way for Billy and me. 

Where the hazel bank is steepest, 

Where the shadow lies the deepest, 
Where the clustering nuts fall free— 
That’s the way for Billy and me. 

Why the boys should drive away 
Little sweet maidens from the play. 

Or love to banter and fight so well, 
That’s the thing I never could tell. 

But this I know: I love to play. 

Through the meadow, among the hay; 
Up the water and o’er the lea. 

That’s the way for Billy and me. 

yantes Hogg 


50 






























SAW him peeping from my lawn, 
A tiny spot of yellow. 

His face was one substantial 
smile— 

The jolly little fellow. 

I think he wore a doublet green, 

His golden skirt tucked under; 

He carried, too, a sword so sharp 
That I could only wonder. 

“Are you a soldier, little man. 

You, with your face so sunny?” 
The fellow answered not a word; 

I thought it very funny. 



5 2 















The CHILDREN'S TREASURT 

I left him there to guard my lawn 
From robins bent on plunder, 

The soldier lad with doublet green, 

His yellow skirt tucked under. 

The days passed on—one afternoon 
As I was out a-walking. 

Whom should I meet upon the lawn 
But soldier lad a-stalking. 

His head, alas! was white as snow, 

And it was all a-tremble; 

Ah! scarce did this old veteran 
My bonny lad resemble. 

I bent to speak with pitying word— 
Alas! for good intention; 

His snowy locks blew quite away— 

The rest we will not mention. 

Kate Louise ‘Brown 




n 



ITTING on the flower-bed be¬ 
neath the hollyhocks 
I spied the tiny tailor who makes 
the fairies’ frocks; 

There he sat a-stitching all the afternoon 

And sang a little ditty to a quaint wee tune: 

“Grey for the goblins, blue for the elves, 

Brown for the little gnomes that live by 
themselves, 

White for the pixies that dance upon 
the green, 

But where shall I find me a robe for the 
Queen?” 

All about the garden his little men he sent. 

Up and down and in and out unceasingly 
they went; 

Here they stole a blossom, there they pulled 
a leaf, 



54 







The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

And bound them up with gossamer into a 
glowing sheaf. 

Petals of the pansy for little velvet shoon, 

Silk of the poppy for a dance beneath 
the moon, 

Lawn of the jessamine, damask of the 
rose, 

To make their pretty kirtles and airy 
furbelows. 

Never roving pirates back from Southern 
seas 

Brought a store of treasures home beautiful 
as these; 

They heaped them all about him in a sweet 
gay pile. 

But still he kept a-stitching and a-singing 
all the while: 

“Grey for the goblins, blue for the elves, 

Brown for the little gnomes that live by 
themselves. 

White for the pixies that dance on the 
green, 

But who shall make a royal gown to deck 
the Fairy Queen ?” %ose Fyleman 

55 



NEVER quite saw fairy-folk 
A-dancing in the glade, 
Where, just beyond the hollow 
oak, 

Their broad green rings are laid; 

But, while behind that oak I hid, 

One day I very nearly did! 

(6 






































The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

I never quite saw mermaids rise 
Above the twilight sea. 

When sands, left wet, ’neath sunset skies, 
Are blushing rosily: 

But—all alone, those rocks amid— 

One day I very nearly did! 

I never quite saw Goblin Grim, 

Who haunts our lumber room 
And pops his head above the rim 
Of that oak chest’s deep gloom: 

But once—when mother raised the lid— 

I very, very nearly did! 

Queenie Scott-Hopper 


sr 



OME, take up your hats, and 
away let us haste 
To the Butterfly’s Ball and the 
Grasshopper’s Feast; 

The trumpeter, Gadfly, has summoned 
the crew. 

And the revels are now only waiting for 
you.” 

So said little Robert, and pacing along, 
His merry companions came forth in a 
throng, 

And on the smooth grass by the side of a 
wood. 

Beneath a broad oak that for ages has stood. 
Saw the children of earth and the tenants 
of air 

For an evening’s amusement together 

repair. 

58 














The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

And there came the Beetle, so blind and so 
black, 

Who carried the Emmet, his friend, on his 
back; 

And there was the Gnat and the Dragon¬ 
fly too, 

With all their relations, green, orange, and 
blue. 

And there came the moth, with his plumage 
of down, 

And the Hornet, in jacket of yellow and 
brown, 

Who with him the Wasp, his companion, 
did bring; 

They promised that evening to lay by 
their sting. 

And the sly little Dormouse crept out of 
his hole. 

And brought to the Feast his blind brother, 
the Mole. 

And the Snail, with his horns peeping out 
of his shell, [an ell. 

Came from a great distance—the length of 

59 


The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

A mushroom their table, and on it was 
laid 

A water-dock leaf, which a table-cloth 
made. 

The viands were various, to each of their 
taste, 

And the Bee brought her honey to crown 
the repast. 

Then close on his haunches, so solemn and 
wise, 

The Frog from a corner looked up to the 
skies; 

And the squirrel, well-pleased such 
diversions to see. 

Mounted high overhead and looked down 
from a tree. 

\ 

Then out came a Spider, with fingers so 
fine. 

To show his dexterity on the tight-line. 

From one branch to another his cobwebs 
he slung, 

Then quick as an arrow he darted along. 










































































The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

But just in the middle—oh! shocking to 

teh. 

From his rope, in an instant, poor 
Harlequin fell. 

Yet he touched not the ground, but with 
talons outspread, 

Hung suspended in air, at the end of a 
thread. 

Then the Grasshopper came, with a jerk 
and a spring, 

Very long was his leg, though but short 
was his wing; 

He took but three leaps, and was soon out 
of sight, 

Then chirped his own praises the rest of 
the night. 

With step so majestic, the Snail did ad¬ 
vance. 

And promised the gazers a minuet to 
dance: 

But they all laughed so loud that he pulled 
in his head, 

And went to his own little chamber to bed. 


The CHILDREN'S TREASURT 

Then as evening gave way to the shadows 
of night, ’ 

Their watchman, the Glow-worm, came 
out with a light. 

“Then home let us hasten while yet we 
can see, 

For no watchman is waiting for you and 
for me.” 

So said little Robert, and pacing along. 

His merry companions returned in a throng. 

fFilliam ‘Roscoe 



63 







ING-TING! I wish I were a 
primrose, 

A bright yellow primrose blow¬ 
ing in the spring! 

The stooping boughs above me, 

The wandering bee to love me, 

The fern and moss to creep across, 

And the elm-tree for our king! 



/ 


64 




























The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

Nay, stay! I wish I were an elm-tree, 

A great lofty elm-tree, with green leaves 

& a y! 

The winds would set them dancing, 
The sun and moonshine glance in, 

And birds would house among the boughs, 
And sweetly sing! 

Oh—no! I wish I were a robin, 

A robin or a little wren, everywhere to go; 
Through forest, field or garden, 

And ask no leave or pardon, 

Till winter comes with icy thumbs 
To ruffle up our wing. 

Well—tell! Where should I fly to. 

Where go to sleep in the dark wood or 
dell? 

Before a day was over. 

Home comes the rover. 

For mother’s kiss—sweeter this, 

Than any other thing! 

William Allingham 


E 


65 



HE little snow people are hurrying 
down 

From their home in the clouds 
overhead; 

They are working as hard as ever they can, 
Putting the world to bed. 

Every tree in a soft fleecy nightgown they 
clothe; 

Each part has its night-cap of white. 
And o’er the cold ground a thick cover 
they spread 

Before they say good-night. 

And so they come eagerly sliding down, 
With a swift and silent tread. 

Always as busy as busy can be, 

Putting the world to bed. 

EsthertlV . ‘Buxton 



66 















HE little clock is friends with me, 
It talks as plain as plain can be, 
And says, each morning as it rises, 
“Now, don’t forget your exercises! 
Both hands above your head, you know! 
Then lower them very slowly, so; 

Ho, don’t get tired and stop, that way! 

I exercise like this, all day!” 

Right in its face then, I say, “Pooh! 

I wouldn’t boast of it, like you, 

But I can swing my arms ’round, too!” 
And so the clock then looks at me, 

And I look back, and I and he 
Each single morning, when we rise, 

Just exercise and exercise! 



M, C. TDavies 

67 




















CAN see from the window a little 
brown house. 

And the garden goes up to the top 
of the hill. 

And the sun comes each day, 

And slips down away 
At the end of the garden an’ sleeps there 
. . . until 

The daylight comes climbing up over the 

hill. 



I do wish I lived in the little brown house, 
Then at night I’d go up to the garden, an’ 
creep 

Up . . . up . . . then I’d stop. 

An’ lean over the top, 

At the end of the garden, an’ so I could peep 
And see what the sun looks like when it’s 
asleep. 


68 


Marion St John IVehh 













nr 




M 


- 


m 




2T* 


U>«\ 












“ What the sun looks like when it’s asleep 

(Page 68) 




































{ 



HERE did you come from, baby 
dear? 

“Out of the everywhere into 
here.” 

Where did you get those eyes so blue? 
“Out of the sky as I came through.” 



69 













The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

What makes the light in them sparkle and 
spin? 

“Some of the starry spikes left in.” 

Where did you get that little tear? 

“I found it waiting when I got here.” 

What makes your forehead so smooth and 
high? 

“A soft hand stroked it as I went by.” 

What makes your cheek like a warm white 
rose? 

“I saw something better than any one 
knows?” 

Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss? 

“Three angels gave me at once a kiss.” 

Where did you get this pearly ear? 

“God spoke, and it came out to hear.” 

Where did you get those arms and hands? 

“Love made itself into bonds and bands.” 


70 


The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

Feet, whence did you come, you darling 
things? 

“From the same box as the cherubs’wings.” 

How did they all just come to be you? 
“God thought about me, and so I grew.” 

But how did you come to us, you dear? 
“God thought about you, and so I am 
here.” 


George MacTDonald 










WINKLE, twinkle, little star. 
How I wonder what you are! 
Up above the world so high 
Like a diamond in the sky. 


When the blazing sun is gone, 
When he nothing shines upon, 
Then you show your little light, 
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. 






































































































The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 


Then the traveller in the dark 
Thanks you for your tiny spark! 

He could not see which way to go, 

If you did not twinkle so. 

In the dark blue sky you keep, 

And often through my curtains peep, 
For you never shut your eye 
Till the sun is in the sky. 

As your bright and tiny spark 
Lights the traveller in the dark, 
Though I know not what you are, 
Twinkle, twinkle, little star. 


Jane Taylor 




74 










REAT, wide, beautiful, wonderful 
World, 

With the wonderful water round 
you curled, 

And thewonderful grass upon your breast— 
World, you are beautifully drest. 

The wonderful air is over me. 

And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree, 

75 


















The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

It walks on the water, and whirls the mills, 

And talks to itself on the tops of the hills. 

You friendly Earth! how far do you go. 

With the wheat-fields that nod and the 
rivers that flow, 

With cities, and gardens, and cliffs, and 
isles. 

And people upon you for thousands of 
miles? 

Ah, you are so great, and I am so small, 

I tremble to think of you. World, at all; 

And yet, when I said my prayers to-day, 

A whisper inside me seemed to say, 

“You are more than the Earth, though you 
are such a dot: 

You can love and think, and the Earth 
cannot! ” 

IVilliam Brighty Bands 


\ 


76 






HERE are fairies at the bottom 
of our garden! 

It’s not so very, very far away ; 
You pass the gardener’s shed and 
you just keep straight ahead— 

I do so hope they’ve really come to stay. 

There’s a little wood, with moss in it and 
beetles, 

And a little stream that quietly runs 
through; 

You wouldn’t think they’d dare to come 
merry-making there— 

Well, they do. 

There are fairies at the bottom of our 
garden! 

They often have a dance on summer 
nights; 


77 















The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

The butterflies and bees make a lovely little 
breeze, 

And the rabbits stand about and hold 
the lights. 

Did you know that they could sit upon the 
moonbeams 

And pick a little star to make a fan. 

And dance away up there in the middle of 
the air ? 

Well, they can. 

There are fairies at the bottom of our 
garden! 

You cannot think how beautiful they are ; 

They all stand up and sing when the Fairy 
Queen and King 

Come gently floating down upon theircar. 

The king is very proud and very handsome; 

The Queen—now can you guess who that 
could be 

(She’s a little girl all day, but at night she 
steals away) ? 

Well,— its Me! 

T^ose Fyleman 

78 



H, Peterkin Pout and Gregory 
Grout 

Are two little goblins black. 
Full oft from my house I’ve 
driven them out, 

But somehow they still come back. 


They clamber up to the baby’s mouth, 
And pull the corners down; 

They perch aloft on the baby’s brow, 
And twist it into a frown. 




79 













The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

And one says “Must!” and t’other says 
“Can’t!” 

And one says “Shall!” and t’other says 
“S ha’n’t!” 

Oh, Peterkin Pout and Gregory Grout, 

I pray you now, from my house keep out! 

But Samuel Smile and Lemuel Laugh 
Are two little fairies light; 

They’re always ready for fun and chaff, 
And sunshine is their delight. 

And when they creep into Baby’s eyes, 
Why, there the sunbeams are; 

And when they peep through her rosy lips, 
Her laughter rings near and far. 

And one says “Please!” and t’other says 
“Do!” 

And both together say “I love you!” 

So, Lemuel Laugh and Samuel Smile, 

Come in, my dears, and tarry awhile! 


80 


Laura E . ‘Richards 



HE world’s a very happy place, 
Where every child should laugh 
and sing, 

And always have a smiling face, 
And never sulk for anything. 

I waken when the morning’s come, 

And feel the air and light alive 
With strange sweet music, like the hum 
Of bees about their busy hive. 



F 


81 









The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

The linnets play among the leaves 

At hide-and-seek, and chirp and sing; 
While, flashing to and from the eaves, 
The swallows twitter on the wing. 

And twigs that shake, and boughs that 
sway. 

And tall old trees you could not climb, 
And winds that come, but cannot stay, 

Are singing gaily all the time. 

From dawn to dark the old mill-wheel 
Makes music, going round and round; 
And dusty-white with flour and meal, 

The miller whistles to its sound. 

The brook that flows beside the mill. 

As happy as a brook can be, 

Goes singing its own song until 
It learns the singing of the sea. 

For every wave upon the sands 

Sings songs you never tire to hear. 

Of laden ships from sunny lands, 

Where it is summer all the year. 


82 



































































The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

And if you listen to the rain 

When leaves and birds and bees are 
dumb, 

You hear it pattering on the pane. 

Like Andrew beating on his drum. 

The coals beneath the kettle croon. 

And clap their hands and dance in glee; 

And even the kettle hums a tune 
To tell you when it’s time for tea. 

The world is such a happy place 
That children, whether big or small, 

Should always have a smiling face, 

And never, never sulk at all. 

Gabriel Setoun 



g 4 



OD make my life a little light, 
Within the world to glow; 

A little flame that burneth bright. 
Wherever I may go. 

God make my life a little flower, 

That giveth joy to all, 

Content to bloom in native bower. 
Although the place be small. 






1 


85 



























The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 


God make my life a little song, 

That comforteth the sad; 

That helpeth others to be strong, 

And makes the singer glad. 

God make my life a little staff, 
Whereon the weak may rest, 

That so what health and strength 
I have 

May serve my neighbours best. 

God make my life a little hymn 
Of tenderness and praise; 

Of faith, that never waxeth dim, 

In all His wondrous ways. 

M. Betham-Edwards 



86 



’VE found the place where Dark¬ 
ness goes 

When Cockcrow gives it warning! 
I don’t think everybody knows; 

/ didn’t, till this morning. 

When Sunrise makes the hills look gay, 
And laughs in pool and runnel— 

The Shadows go and sit all day 
Inside the railway tunnel. 



That tunnel is the blackest place! 
As soon as you are in it 


87 































The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

You long to see the Sun’s bright face, 

If just for half a minute. 

The Shadows sit in rows and rows 
Packed close against each other. 

And, as the bold train onward goes. 

You keep tight hold of Mother. 

Then comes a sudden flashing spark 
Like Light poured through a funnel: 

How did they get there, in the Dark, 
Those lanterns in the tunnel? 

A flash—and back the Dark comes— Puff! 
But if you’re close to Mother, 

Each flash will last just long enough 
For smiling at each other. 

Then, all at once, the tunnel’s done! 

The Shadows cannot chase you: 

And there’s the friendly, laughing Sun 
All ready to embrace you! 

You’re glad to see the clover-bloom, 

Green hedge and dancing runnel! 

You’re glad to leave Night’s waiting-room 
Inside the railway tunnel! 

Queenie Scott-H opper 


88 




AFFY-DOWN-DILLY 
Came up in the cold, 
Through the brown mould, 
Although the March breezes 
Blew keen on her face, 
Although the white snow 
Lay on many a place. 

Daffy-down-dilly 

Flad heard under ground, 

The sweet rushing sound 
Of the streams, as they broke 
From their white winter chains, 
Of the whistling spring winds 
And the pattering rains. 



89 














The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 


“Now then,” thought Daffy, 

Deep down in her heart, 

“It’s time I should start.” 

So she pushed her soft leaves 

Through the hard frozen ground, 
Quite up to the surface, 

And then she looked round. 

There was snow all about her, 

Grey clouds over-head; 

The trees all looked dead; 

Then how do you think 
Poor Daffy-down felt. 

When the sun would not shine. 
And the ice would not melt? 

“Cold weather!” thought Daffy, 
Still working away; 

“The earth’s hard to-day! 

There’s but a half-inch 
Of my leaves to be seen, 

And two-thirds of that 

Is more yellow than green. 


The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

“I can’t do much yet, 

But I’ll do what I can: 

It’s well I began! 

For unless I can manage 
To lift up my head, 

The people will think 

That the Spring herself’s dead.” 

So, little by little. 

She brought her leaves out. 

All clustered about; 

And then her bright flowers 
Began to unfold, 

Till Daffy stood robed 

In her spring green and gold. 

O Daffy-down-dilly, 

So brave and so true! 

I wish I were like you!— 

So ready for duty 

In all sorts of weather, 

And loyal to courage 
And duty together. 


Anna B. IVarner 




N Summer, when the grass is 
thick, if mother has the time, 
She shows me with her pencil how 
a poet makes a rhyme, 

And often she is sweet enough to choose 
a leafy nook, 

Where I cuddle up so closely when she 
reads the Fairy-book. 

In winter when the corn’s asleep, and birds 
are not in song, 

And crocuses and violets have been away 
too long, 



92 













The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

Dear mother puts her thimble by in answer 
to my look, 

And I cuddle up so closely when she reads 
the Fairy-book. 

And mother tells the servants that of course 
they must contrive 

To manage all the household things from 
four till half-past five, 

For we really cannot suffer interruption 
from the cook, 

When we cuddle close together with the 
happy Fairy-book. 

Norman Gale 



93 







Grasshopper Groeru 



R ASSHOPPER green is a comical 
chap; 

He lives on the best of fare, 
i Bright little trousers, jacket, and 


cap, 

These are his summer wear. 

Out in the meadow he loves to go. 

Playing away in the sun; 

It’s hopperty, skipperty, high and low. 
Summer’s the time for fun. 

Grasshopper green has a quaint little house; 

It’s under the hedge so gay. 
Grandmother Spider, as still as a mouse. 
Watches him over the way. 

Gladly he’s calling the children, I know. 
Out in the beautiful sun ; 

It’s hopperty, skipperty, high and low, 
Summer’s the time for fun. 

Unknown 
94 















I 

WOULD like you for a comrade, 
for I love you, that I do, 

I never met a little girl as amiable 
as you; 

I would teach you how to dance and sing, 
and how to talk and laugh. 

If I were not a little girl and you were not 
a calf. 

II 

I would like you for a comrade, you should 
share my barley meal, 

And butt me with your little horns just hard 
enough to feel; 

We would lie beneath the chestnut-trees 
and watch the leaves uncurl. 

If I were not a clumsy calf and you a little 
girl. 

Judge Tarry 



95 








OWN in a green and shady bed 
A modest violet grew ; 

Its stalk was bent, it hung its head, 
As if to hide from view. 

And yet it was a lovely flower, 

Its colours bright and fair; 

It might have graced a rosy bower, 
Instead of hiding there. 

Yet thus it was content to bloom, 

In modest tints arrayed ; 

And there diffused a sweet perfume 
Within the silent shade. 

Then let me to the valley go, 

This pretty flower to see; 

That I may also learn to grow 
In sweet humility. 



96 


Jane Taylor 













IGH on a bright and sunny bed 
A scarlet poppy grew; 

And up it held its staring head, 
And thrust it full in view. 


Yet no attention did it win. 

By all these efforts made, 

And less unwelcome had it be ;n 
In some retired shade. 


For though within its scarlet breast 
No sweet perfume was found 
It seemed to think itself the best 
Of all the flowers around. 

From this I may a hint obtain, 

And take great care indeed. 

Lest I appear as pert and vain 
As does this gaudy weed. 

Jane Taylor 
97 


G 


















OW doth the little busy bee 
Improve each shining hour, 
And gather honey all the day 
From every opening flower! 

How skilfully she builds her cell! 

How neat she spreads the wax! 

And labours hard to store it well 
W ith the sweet food she makes. 

In works of labour or of skill, 

I would be busy too; 

For Satan finds some mischief still 
For idle hands to do. 

In books, or work, or healthful play, 
Let my first years be past, 

That I may give for every day 
Some good account at last. 



98 


Isaac Hiatts 




















OOD-BYE,good-bye to summer! 

For summer’s nearly done; 
The garden smiling faintly, 

Cool breezes in the sun; 

Our thrushes now are silent. 

Our swallows flown away,— 

But Robin’s here in coat of brown, 
With ruddy breast-knot gay. 

Robin, Robin Redbreast, 

O Robin dear! 

Robin singing sweetly 
In the falling of the year. 



99 
















The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

Bright yellow, red and orange, 

The leaves come down in hosts; 

The trees are Indian Princes, 

But soon they’ll turn to Ghosts: 

The scanty pears and apples 
Hang russet on the bough, 

It’s autumn, autumn, autumn late, 
’Twill soon be winter now. 

Robin, Robin Redbreast, 

O Robin dear! 

And weladay! my Robin, 

For pinching times are near. 

The fireside for the cricket, 

The wheatstack for the mouse. 

When trembling night-winds whistle 
And moan all round the house; 

The frosty ways like iron, 

The branches plumed with snow,— 
Alas! in winter dead and dark, 

Where can poor Robin go? 

Robin, Robin Redbreast, 

O Robin dear! 

And a crumb of bread for Robin, 
His little heart to cheer. 

W illiam Allingham 


IOO 




’LL tell you how the leaves came 
down. 

The great Tree to his children 
said: 

“You’re getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown, 
Yes, very sleepy, little Red; 

It is quite time you went to bed.” 

“Ah,” begged each silly pouting leaf, 

“Let us a little longer stay; 

Dear Father Tree, behold our grief; 

’Tis such a pleasant day, 

We do not want to go away.” 

So just for one more merry day 

To the great Tree the leaflets clung, 
Frolicked and danced, and had their way, 
Upon the autumn breezes swung, 
Whispering, all their sports among: 



ior 












The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

“ Perhaps the great Tree will forget, 

And let us stay until the spring. 

If we all beg, and coax, and fret.” 

But the great Tree did no such thing; 
He smiled to hear their whispering. 

“ Come, children all, to bed! ” he cried ; 

And ere the leaves could urge their prayer 
He shook his head, and far and wide, 
Fluttering and rustling everywhere, 
Down sped the leaflets through the air. 

I saw them ; on the ground they lay. 
Golden and red, a huddled swarm. 
Waiting, till one from far away, 

White bedclothes heaped upon her arm, 
Should come to wrap them safe and warm. 

The great bare Tree looked down, and 
smiled. 

“Good-night, dear little leaves,” he said ; 
And from below each sleepy child 

Replied, “ Good-night,” and murmured, 
“ It is so nice to go to bed.” 


102 


Susan Coolidge 


ITTLE one, come to my knee! 
Hark how the rain is pouring 
Over the roof, in the pitch-black night, 
And the wind in the woods a-roaring! 

















The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

Hush, my darling, and listen, 

Then pay for the story with kisses; 

Father was lost in the pitch-black night. 
In just such a storm as this is! 

High up in the lonely mountains, 

Where the wild men watched and waited 

Wolves in the forest and bears in the bush, 
And I on my path belated. 

The rain and the night together 

Came down, and the wind came after, 

Bending the props of the pine-tree roof, 
And snapping many a rafter. 

I crept along in the darkness, 

Stunned and bruised and blinded— 

Crept to a fir with thick-set boughs, 

And a sheltering rock behind it. 

There from the blowing and raining. 
Crouching, I sought to hide me: 

Something rustled, two green eyes shone, 
And a wolf lay down beside me. 


The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

Little one, be not frightened: 

I and the wolf together, 

Side by side, through the long, long night, 
Hid from the awful weather. 

His wet fur pressed against me; 

Each of us warmed the other; 

Each of us felt, in the stormy dark, 

That beast and man was brother. 

And when the falling forest 
No longer crashed in warning, 

Each of us went from our hiding-place 
Forth, in the wild wet morning. 

Darling, kiss me in payment! 

Hark, how the wind is roaring; 

Father’s house is a better place 
When the stormy rain is pouring! 

!Bayard Taylor 


ro 5 


ADY BIRD! Lady bird! fly away 
home; 

The field-mouse is gone to her 
nest, 

The daisies have shut up their sleepy red 
eyes. 

And the birds and the bees are at rest. 

Lady bird! Lady bird! fly away home; 

The glow-worm is lighting her lamp, 
The dew’s falling fast, and your fine 
speckled wings 

Will flag with the close-clinging damp. 

Lady bird! Lady bird! fly away home; 

The fairy-bells tinkle afar; 

Make haste, or they’ll catch you and harness 
you fast 

With a cobweb to Oberon’s car. 

U nknown 

106 


















YNKEN, Blynken, and Nod one 
night 

Sailed off in a wooden shoe — 
Sailed on a river of crystal light, 
Into a sea of dew. 

“Where are you going, and what do you 
wish?” 

The old moon asked the three. 

“We have come to fish for the herring-fish 
That live in this beautiful sea; 

107 

































The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

Nets of silver and gold have we!” 

Said Wynken, Blynken, and Nod. 

The old moon laughed and sang a song. 
As they rocked in the wooden shoe, 
And the wind that sped them all night 
long, 

Ruffled the waves of dew. 

The little stars were the herring-fish 
That lived in that beautiful sea— 

“Now cast your nets wherever you wish— 
But never afeard are we”; 

So cried the stars to the fishermen three: 
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod. 

All night long their nets they threw 
For the fish in the twinkling foam— 
Then down from the sky came the wooden 
shoe, 

Bringing the fishermen home; 

’Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed 
As if it could not be; 

And some folks thought twas a dream 
they’d dreamed 
Of sailing that beautiful sea— 




io8 














The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 


But I shall name you the fishermen three: 
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod. 

Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes, 
And Nod is a little head, 

And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies 
Is a wee one’s trundle-bed. 

So shut your eyes while mother sings 
Of wonderful sights that be. 

And you shall see the beautiful things 
As you rock in the misty sea, 

Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen 
three: 

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod. 

Eugene Field 

From “ With Trumpet and Drum copyright, 

1892 , by Mary French Field; published by 
Charles Scribner’s Sons and John Lane. 






NCE a dream did weave a shade 
O’er my angel-guarded bed, 

That an emmet' lost its way 
Where on grass methought I lay. 


Troubled, wildered, and forlorn, 
Dark, benighted, travel-worn, 
Over many a tangled spray, 

All heart-broke, I heard her say: 

“Oh, my children, do they cry, 
Do they hear their father sigh ? 
Now they look abroad to see, 
Now return and weep for me.” 

Pitying, I dropped a tear: 

But I saw a glow-worm near, 

1 Emmet, ant. 















The CHILDREN’S TREASURT 

Who replied, “What wailing wight 
Calls the watchman of the night ? 

“ I am set to light the ground, 

While the beetle goes his round: 
Follow now the beetle’s hum ; 

Little wanderer, hie thee home! ” 

W'illi amzBlake 



111 












WAS the night before Christmas, 
when all through the house, gf 
Not a creature was stirring, not 
even a mouse; 

The stockings were hung by the chimney 
with care. 

In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be 
there; 

The children were nestled all snug in their 
beds. 

While visions of sugar-plums danced in 
their heads; 

And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap, 
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s 
nap 



11 2 


















The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

When out on the lawn there arose such a 
clatter, 

I sprang from my bed to see what was the 
matter. 

Away to the window I flew like a flash. 
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. 
The moon on the breast of the n ew-fallen snow. 
Gave the lustre of midday to objects below. 
When, what to my wondering eyes should 
appear. 

But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer, 
With a little old driver, so lively and quick, 
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick. 
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, 
And he whistled and shouted, and called them 
by name: 

“ Now, Dasher! now, Dancer ! now, Prancer! 
and Vixen! 

On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and 
Blitzen ! 

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! 
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!” 
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane 

«y. 


H 


113 


The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to 
the sky; 

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew 

With the sleigh full of toys and St Nicholas too. 

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof 

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof— 

As I drew in my head, and was turning 
around, 

Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a 
bound. 

He was dressed all in furs from his head to 
his foot, 

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes 
and soot; 

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, 

And he looked like a pedlar just opening his 
pack. 

His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples— 
how merry! 

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a 
cherry! 

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, 

And the beard on his chin was as white as 
the snow; 




oo up the Houser fop the Counscns they fiW 
Wfhlhe Sleigh full oP Toys, and 5t* Nicolas too 

















The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth. 

And the smoke it encircled his head like a 
wreath; 

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf; 

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of 
myself; 

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head 

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to 
dread; 

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his 
work, 

And filled all the stockings; then turned with 
a jerk, 

And laying his finger aside of his nose, 

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. 

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a 
whistle. 

And away they all flew like the down of a 
thistle. 

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of 
sight, 

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good 
night!" 


Clement C. Moore 



“JheWil 


Arlan . 


HERE once was a Willow, and he 
was very old, 

And all his leaves fell off from 
him, and left him in the cold; 
But ere the rude winter could buffet him 
with snow, 

There grew upon his hoary head a crop of 
Mistletoe. 

All wrinkled and furrowed was this old 
Willow’s skin, 

His taper fingers trembled, and his arms 
were very thin; 

117 













The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

Two round eyes and hollow, that stared but 
did not see, 

And sprawling feet that never walked, had 
this most ancient tree. 

A Dame who dwelt a-near was the only one 
who knew 

That every year upon his head the Christmas 
berries grew; 

And when the Dame cut them, she said—it 
was her whim— 

“A merry Christmas to you, Sir!” and left a 
hit for him . 

“Oh, Granny dear, tell us,” the children 
cried, “where we 

May find the shining mistletoe that grows 
upon the tree?” 

At length the Dame told them, but cautioned 
them to mind 

To greet the willow civilly, and leave a bit 
behind. 

“Who cares,” said the children, “for this old 
Willow-man? 



The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

We’ll take the Mistletoe, and he may catch 
us if he can.” 

With rage the ancient Willow shakes in 
every limb, 

For they have taken all, and have not left a bit 
for him! 

Then bright gleamed the holly, the Christ¬ 
mas berries shone, 

But in the wintry wind without the Willow- 
man did moan: 

“Ungrateful, and wasteful! the mystic Mistle¬ 
toe 

A hundred years hath grown on me, but 
never more shall grow.” 

A year soon passed by, and the children came 
once more, 

But not a sprig of Mistletoe the aged Willow 
bore. 

Each slender spray pointed; he mocked them 
in his glee, 

And chuckled in his wooden heart, that 
ancient Willow-tree. 


The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

Moral 

O children, who gather the spoils of wood 
and wold. 

From selfish greed and wilful waste your 
little hands withhold. 

Though fair things be common, this moral 
bear in mind, 

“Pick thankfully and modestly, and leave 
a bit behind 

Juliana Horatia Ewing 










ILL you walk into my parlour?” 
said the Spider to the Fly— 

“ ’Tis the prettiest little parlour 
that ever you did spy; 

The way into my parlour is up a winding 
stair. 

And I have many curious things to show 
you when you’re there.” 



1 2 r 

































The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

“Oh, no, no,” said the little Fly, “to ask me is 
in vain. 

For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er 
come down again.” 

“I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with 
soaring up so high; 

Will you rest upon my little bed?” said the 
Spider to the Fly. 

“There are pretty curtains drawn around, 
the sheets are fine and thin, 

And if you like to rest a while, I’ll snugly 
tuck you in!” 

“Oh, no, no,” said the little Fly, “for I’ve 
often heard it said. 

They never, never wake again, who sleep 
upon your bed!” 

Said the cunning Spider to the Fly: “Dear 
friend, what can I do 

To prove the warm affection I’ve always felt 
for you? 

I have, within my pantry, good store of all 
that’s nice; 

I’m sure you’re very welcome—will you 
please to take a slice?” 


122 


The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

“Oh, no, no,” said the little Fly; “kind sir, 
that cannot be, 

I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do 
not wish to see!” 

“Sweet creature,” said the spider, “you’re 
witty and you’re wise; 

How handsome are your gauzy wings, how 
brilliant are your eyes! 

I have a little looking-glass upon my parlour 
shelf, 

If you’ll step in one moment, dear, you shall 
behold yourself.” 

“I thank you, gentle sir,” she said, “for what 
you’re pleased to say, 

And bidding you good-morning now, I’ll 
call another day.” 

The Spider turned him round about, and 
went into his den, 

For well he knew the silly Fly would soon 
come back again; 

So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner 
sly, 

And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly. 


The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

Then he came out to his door again, and 
merrily did sing,— 

“Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the 
pearl and silver wing; 

Your robes are green and purple, there’s a 
crest upon your head; 

Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but 
mine are dull as lead!” 

Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly, 

Hearing his wily, flattering words, came 
slowly flitting by: 

With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then 
near and nearer drew,— 

Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and 
green and purple hue. 

Thinking only of her crested head—poor 
foolish thing! At last. 

Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely 
held her fast; 

He d ragged her up his winding stair, into 
his dismal den, 

Within his little parlour—but she ne’er 
came out again! 


124 


The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

And now, dear little children, who may 
this story read. 

To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you 
ne’er give heed: 

Unto an evil counsellor close heart, and 
ear, and eye. 

And take a lesson from this tale, of the 
Spider and the Fly. 

Mary Howitt 



125 


























I 



ITTLE brown seed, oh! little 
brown brother. 

Are you awake in the dark ? 
Here we lie cosily, close to each 
other: 

Hark to the song of the lark— 

“Waken ! ” the lark says, “waken and dress 
you. 

Put on your green coats and gay; 

Blue sky will shine on you, sunshine caress 
you- 

Waken! ’tis morning—’tis May!” 



126 
















The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

Little brown seed, oh ! little brown brother, 


What kind of flower will you be ? 

I’ll be a poppy—all white, like my mother; 

Do be a poppy like me. 

What! you’re a sunflower ? How I shall 
miss you 

When you’re grown golden and high! 
But I shall send all the bees up to kiss you; 
Little brown brother, good-bye ! 

E. Nesbit 



127 







OME cuddle close in daddy’s coat 
Beside the fire so bright, 

And hear about the fairy folk 
That wander in the night. 

For when the stars are shining clear, 

And all the world is still, 

They float across the silver moon 
From hill to cloudy hill. 

Their caps of red, their cloaks of green, 
Are hung with silver bells. 

And when they’re shaken with the wind, 
Their merry ringing swells. 

128 





























128 













The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

And riding on the crimson moths 
With black spots on their wings, 
They guide them down the purple sky 
With golden bridle rings. 

They love to visit girls and boys 
To see how sweet they sleep, 

To stand beside their cosy cots 
And at their faces peep. 

For in the whole of fairy land 
They have no finer sight 
Than little children sleeping sound 
With faces rosy bright. 

On tip-toe crowding round their heads. 
When bright the moonlight beams, 
They whisper little tender words 
That fill their minds with dreams; 
And when they see a sunny smile. 
With lightest finger tips 
They lay a hundred kisses sweet 
Upon the ruddy lips. 

And then the little spotted moths 
Spread out their crimson wings, 


129 



The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

And bear away the fairy crowd 
With shaking bridle rings. 

Come, bairnies, hide in daddy’s coat, 
Beside the fire so bright— 

Perhaps the little fairy folk 
Will visit you to-night. 

T^obert M, IMrd 


130 







MILLION little diamonds 
Twinkled on the trees; 

And all the little maidens said, 

“A jewel, if you please!” 

But when they held their hands outstretched 
To catch the diamond gay, 

A million little sunbeams came, 

And stole them all away. 

Mary F. Butts 



131 






IB 

WAKE! I feel the day is near; 

I hear the red cock crowing! 
He cries, “’Tis dawn!” How 
sweet and clear 
His cheerful call comes to my ear, 

While light is slowly growing! 

The white snow gathers flake on flake; 

I hear the red cock crowing! 

Is anybody else awake 

To see the winter morning break. 

While thick and fast ’tis snowing? 

I think the world is all asleep; 

I hear the red cock crowing! 




132 












The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

Out of the frosty pane I peep; 

The drifts are piled so wide and deep, 
And the wild wind is blowing! 

Nothing I see has shape or form; 

I hear the red cock crowing! 

But that dear voice comes through the 
storm 

To greet me in my nest so warm, 

As if the sky were glowing! 

A happy little child, I lie 

And hear the red cock crowing. 

The day is dark. I wonder why 
His voice rings out so brave and high. 

With gladness overflowing. 

Celia Thaxter 



133 






AIL! Ho! 

Sail! Ho! 

Ahoy! Ahoy! Ahoy ! 
Who calls to me, 

So far at sea ? 

Only a little boy! 


134 
































































The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

Sail! Ho! 

Hail! Ho! 

The sailor he sails the sea: 

I wish he would capture 
A little sea-horse 
And send him home to me. 

I wish as he sails 
Through the tropical gales. 

He would catch me a sea-bird, too. 
With its silver wings 
And the song it sings, 

And its breast of down and dew ! 

I wish he would catch me 
A little mermaid, 

Some island where he lands, 

With her dripping curls, 

And her crown of pearls, 

And the looking-glass in her hands! 

Hail! Ho! 

Sail! Ho! 

Sail far o’er the fabulous main ! 



The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

And if I were a sailor, 

I’d sail with you, 

Though I never sailed back again. 

yantes IF hit comb ‘R.Hey 


137 


































LIZABETH, my cousin, is the 
sweetest little girl. 

From her eyes, like dark blue 
pansies, to her tiniest golden curl; 
I do not use her great long name, but 
simply call her Bess, 

And yesterday I planted her in mustard 
and in cress. 


My garden is so narrow that there’s very 
iittle room, 

But I’d rather have her name than get a 
hollyhock to bloom; 

And before she comes to visit us with 
Charley and with Jess, 

She’ll pop up green and bonny out of 
mustard and of cress. 

Norman Gale 

138 










Y tea is nearly ready, and the sun 
has left the sky; 

It’s time to take the window to 
see Leerie going by; 

For every night at tea-time and before you 
take your seat, 

With lantern and with ladder he comes 
posting up the street. 



■39 















The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

Now Tom would be a driver and Maria go 
to sea. 

And my papa’s a banker and as rich as he 
can be; 

But I, when I am stronger and can choose 
what I’m to do, 

O Leerie, I’ll go round at night and light 
the lamps with you! 

For we are very lucky, with a lamp before 
the door, 

And Leerie stops to light it as he lights so 
many more; 

And O! before you hurry by with ladder 
and with light, 

O Leerie, see a little child and nod to him 
to-night! 

Robert Louis Stevenson 


140 



WISH I lived in a caravan, 
With a horse to drive, like a 
pedlar-man! 

Where he comes from nobody 
knows. 

Or where he goes to, but on he goes! 

His caravan has windows two. 

And a chimney of tin, that the smoke 
comes through; 

He has a wife, with a baby brown. 

And they go riding from town to town. 

14 1 


















The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 


Chairs to mend, and delf to sell! 

He clashes the basins like a bell; 
Tea-trays, baskets ranged in order, 

Plates with the alphabet round the border! 

The roads are brown, and the sea is green, 
But his house is like a bathing machine; 
The world is round, and he can ride. 
Rumble and splash to the other side! 

With the pedlar-man I should like to roam. 
And (write a book when I came home; 

All the people would read my book, 

Just like the Travels of Captain Cook! 

‘Brighty Brands 



142 














































































HERE’S no dew left on the daisies 
and clover, 

There’s no rain left in heaven: 
I’ve said my “seven times” over 
and over, 

Seven times one are seven. 

I am old, so old, I can write a letter; 

My birthday lessons are done; 







The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

The lambs play always, they know no better; 

They are only one times one. 

O moon! in the night I have seen you 
sailing 

And shining so round and low; 

You were bright! ah, bright! but your light 
is failing— 

You are nothing now but a bow. 

You moon, have you done something wrong 
in heaven 

That God has hidden your face? 

I hope if you have you will soon be for¬ 
given, 

And shine again in your place. 


O velvet bee, you’re a dusty fellow. 

You’ve powdered your legs with gold! 
O brave marsh marybuds, rich and yellow, 
Give me your money to hold! 


O columbine, open your folded wrapper, 
Where two twin turtle-doves dwell! 

O cuckoopint, toll me the purple clapper 
That hangs in your clear, green bel 


K 


145 



The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 


And show me your nest with the young 
ones in it; 

I will not steal them away; 

I am old! you may trust me, linnet, linnet— 
I am seven times one to-day. 



146 













Srclrty (2ou? 




HANK you, pretty cow, that made 
Pleasant milk to soak my bread. 
Every day and every night, 
Warm, and fresh, and sweet, and 
white. 


Do not chew the hemlock rank, 
Growing on the weedy bank; 

But the yellow cowslip eat. 

That will make it very sweet. 

Where the purple violet grows, 
Where the bubbling water flows, 
Where the grass is fresh and fine, 
Pretty cow, go there and dine. 

Jane Taylor 


r 47 







Disconberib 



OWN in a field, one day in June, 
The flowers all bloomed together, 
Save one, who tried to hide herself, 
And drooped, the pleasant weather. 

A robin who had flown too high 
And felt a little lazy. 

Was resting near this buttercup, 

Who wished she were a daisy. 

For daisies grow so smart and tall; 

She always had a passion 



148 






The CHILDREN'S TREASURT 

For wearing frills around her neck, 

In just the daisies’ fashion. 

And buttercups must always be 
The same old tiresome colour, 

While daisies dress in gold and white, 
Although their gold is duller. 

“ Dear robin,” said this sad young flower, 
“Perhaps you’d not mind trying 

To find a nice white frill for me, 

Some day when you are flying?” 

“You silly thing!” the robin said, 

“I think you must be crazy; 

I’d rather be my honest self 
Than any made-up daisy. 

“You’re nicer in your own bright gown, 
The little children love you. 

Be the best buttercup you can, 

And think no flower above you. 

“Though swallows leave me out of sight. 
We’d better keep our places; 

Perhaps the world would all go wrong 
With one too many daisies. 


149 





9 


The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

“Look bravely up into the sky, 

And be content with knowing 
That God wished for a buttercup 
Just here, where you are growing.” 

Sarah Orne Jewett 



1 5° 



RAVE 



E’LL plant a corn-flower on his 
grave, 

And a grain of the bearded bar¬ 
ley, 

And a little bluebell to ring his knell, 

And eye-bright, blossoming early; 

And we’ll cover it over, 

With purple clover, 

And daisies, crimson and pearly. 









The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

And we’ll pray the linnet to chant his dirge, 
With the robin and wren for chorus; 
His mate, on high, shall rain from the sky 
Her benedictions o’er us; 

And the hawk and owls, 

Those pitiless fowls. 

We’ll drive away before us. 

And then we’ll leave him to his rest, 

And whisper soft above him, 

That ever his song was sweet and strong, 
Nor cloud nor mist could move him; 

In his strain was a gladness 
To cure all sadness, 

And all fair things did love him. 

Thomas IV\estwood 


I £2 



HE skylark’s nest among the grass 
And waving corn is found; 

The robin’s on a shady bank, 

With oak leaves strewn around. 

The wren builds in an ivied thorn, 

Or old and ruined wall; 

The mossy nest, so covered in, 

You scarce can see at all. 



■53 









The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

The martins build their nests of clay, 
In rows beneath the eaves; 

While silvery lichens, moss, and hair, 
The chaffinch interweaves. 

The cuckoo makes no nest at all. 

But through the wood she strays 

Until she finds one snug and warm, 
And there her eggs she lays. 

The sparrow has a nest of hay, 

With feathers warmly lined; 

The ring-dove’s careless nest of sticks 
On lofty trees we find. 

Rooks build together in a wood, 

And often disagree; 

The owl will build inside a barn 
Or in a hollow tree. 

The blackbird’s nest of grass and mud 
In brush and bank is found; 

The lapwing’s darkly spotted eggs 
Are laid upon the ground. 


154 


The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

The magpie’s nest is girt with thorns 
In leafless tree or hedge; 

The wild duck and the water hen 
Build by the water’s edge. 

Birds build their nests from year to year. 

According to their kind,— 

Some very neat and beautiful, 

Some easily designed. 

The habits of each little bird, 

And all its patient skill. 

Are surely taught by God Himself 
And ordered by His will. 

U n known 



*55 





HE Owl and the Pussy-Cat went 
to sea 

In a beautiful pea-green boat, 
They took some honey, and plenty 
of money, 

Wrapped up in a five-pound note. 



156 





















! 5 6 












The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

The Owl looked up to the stars above, 
And sang to a small guitar, 

“O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love, 

What a beautiful Pussy you are, 

You are! 

What a beautiful Pussy you are!” 

Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl! 

How charmingly sweet you sing! 

O let us be married! too long we have tar¬ 
ried : 

But what shall we do for a ring?” 

They sailed away for a year and a day, 

To the land where the Bong-tree grows, 
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood, 
With a ring at the end of his nose, 

His nose, 

With a ring at the end of his nose. 

“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one 
shilling 

Your ring?” Said the Piggy, “I will.” 
So they took it away, and were married 
next day 

By the Turkey who lives on the hill. 


157 


The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 



They dined on mince and slices of quince, 
Which they ate with a runcible spoon; 
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, 
They danced by the light of the moon, 

The moon, 

They danced by the light of the moon. 

Edward Lear 



158 





























RE you a Giant, great big man, 
or is your real name Smith? 
Nurse says you’ve got a hammer 
that you hit bad children with. 
I’m good to-day, and so I’ve come to see if 
it is true 

That you can turn a red-hot rod into a 
horse’s shoe. 


■59 














The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

Why do you make the horses’ shoes of 
iron instead of leather? 

Is it because they are allowed to go out in 
bad weather? 

If horses should be shod with iron. Big 
Smith, will you shoe mine? 

For now I may not take him out, except¬ 
ing when it’s fine. 

Although he’s not a real live horse, I’m 
very fond of him; 

His harness won’t take off and on, but still 
it’s new and trim. 

His tail is hair, he has four legs, but neither 
hoofs nor heels; 

I think he’d seem more like a horse without 
these yellow wheels. 

They say that Dapple-grey’s not yours, but 
don’t you wish he were? 

My horse’s coat is only paint, but his is 
soft grey hair; 

His face is big and kind like yours, his 
forelock white as snow— 

Shan’t you be sorry when you’ve done his 
shoes and he must go? 


/ 


The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

I do so wish, Big Smith, that I might come 
and live with you; 

To rake the fire, to heat the rods, to ham¬ 
mer two and two. 

To be so black, and not to have to wash 
unless I choose; 

To pat the dear old horses, and to mend 
their poor old shoes! 

When all the world is dark at night, you 
work among the ctars, 

A shining shower of fireworks beat out of 
red-hot bars. 

I’ve seen you beat, I’ve heard you sing, 
when I was going to bed; 

And now your face and arms looked black, 
and now were glowing red. 

The more you work, the more you sing, 
the more the bellows roar; 

The falling stars, the flying sparks, stream 
shining more and more. 

You hit so hard, you look so hot, and yet 
you never tire; 

It must be very nice to be allowed to play 
with fire. 



The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

I long to beat and sing and shine, as you 
do, but instead 

I put away my horse, and Nurse puts me 
away to bed. 

I wonder if you go to bed; I often think I’ll 
keep 

Awake and see, but, though I try, I always 
fall asleep. 

I know it’s very silly, but I sometimes am 
afraid 

Of being in the dark alone, especially in bed. 

But when I see your forge-light come and 
go upon the wall, 

And hear you through the window, I am 
not afraid at all. 

I often hear a trotting horse, I sometimes 
hear it stop; 

I hold my breath—you stay your song—it’s 
at the blacksmith’s shop. 

Before it goes, I’m apt to fall asleep, Big 
Smith, it’s true; 

But then I dream of hammering that 

horse’s shoes with you ! 

Juliana Horatia Ewing 

162 





For fear of little men; 

163 


/ 

























































The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

Wee folk, good folk. 

Trooping all together; 

Green jacket, red cap, 

And white owl’s feather! 

Down along the rocky shore 
Some make their home, 

They live on crispy pancakes 
Of yellow tide-foam; 

Some in the reeds 

Of the black mountain lake, 

With frogs for their watch-dogs. 

All night awake. 

High on the hill-top 
The old King sits; 

He is now so old and gray, 

He’s nigh lost his wits. 

With a bridge of white mist 
Columbkill he crosses 

On his stately journeys 

From Slieveleague to Rosses; 

Or going up with music 
On cold, starry nights, 

To sup with the Queen 

Of the gay Northern Lights. 












































The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

They stole little Bridget 
For seven years long; 

When she came down again, 

Her friends were all gone. 

They took her lightly back, 

Between the night and morrow, 
They thought that she was fast asleep, 
But she was dead with sorrow. 

They have kept her ever since 
Deep within the lake, 

On a bed of flag leaves, 

Watching till she wake. 

By the craggy hill-side, 

Through the mosses bare, 

They have planted thorn-trees 
For pleasure here and there. 

Is any man so daring 
As did them up in spite, 

He shall find their sharpest thorns 
In his bed at night. 

Up the airy mountain, 

Down the rushy glen, 

We daren’t go a-hunting 
For fear of little men; 




















The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 


Wee folk, good folk, 

Trooping all together; 

Green jacket, red cap, 

And white owl’s feather! 

W illiam Allingham 



167 







































OG on, jog on, the footpath way, 
And merrily hent the style-a: 
A merry heart goes all the day, 
Your sad tires in a mile-a. 


W'illiam Shakespeare 



168 




























MONG the thistles on the hill, 

In tears sat little Sorrow; 

“I see a black cloud in the west, 
’Twill bring a storm to-morrow. 
And when it storms where shall I be? 

And what will keep the rain from me? 
Woe’s me!” said little Sorrow. 



169 






















The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

“But now the air is soft and sweet, 

The sun is bright,” said Pleasure; 

“Here is my pipe; if you will dance, 

I’ll wake my merriest measure; 

Or, if you choose, we’ll sit beneath 
The red rose-tree, and twine a wreath; 
Come, come with me!” said Pleasure. 

“O, I want neither dance nor flowers,— 
They’re not for me,” said Sorrow, 
“When that black cloud is in the west, 
And it will storm to-morrow! 

And if it storm what shall I do? 

I have no heart to play with you,— 

Go! go!” said little Sorrow. 

But, lo! when came the morrow’s morn, 
The clouds were all blown over; 

The lark sprang singing from his nest 
Among the dewy clover; 

And Pleasure called, “Come out and dance! 
To-day you mourn no evil chance; 

The clouds have all blown over! ” 

“And if they have, alas! alas! 

Poor comfort that!” said Sorrow; 



The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

“For if to-day we miss the storm, 

’Twill surely come to-morrow,— 

And be the fiercer for delay! 

I am too sore at heart to play; 

Woe’s me!” said little Sorrow. 

Marian ‘Douglas 



1 71 








UPPOSE the little cowslip 
Should hang its golden cup, 
And say, “I’m such a tiny flower, 
I’d better not grow up ! ” 

How many a weary traveller 
Would miss its fragrant smell! 

How many a little child would grieve 
To miss it from the dell! 



Suppose the glistening dewdrop 
Upon the grass should say, 
“What can a little dewdrop do? 
I’d better roll away”; 


172 

















The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

The blade on which it rested, 

Before the day was done, 

Without a drop to moisten it, 

Would wither in the sun. 

Suppose the little breezes 
Upon a summer’s day, 

Should think themselves too small to cool 
The traveller on his way; 

Who would not miss the smallest 
And softest ones that blow, 

And think they made a great mistake 
If they were talking so ? 

How many deeds of kindness 
A little child may do, 

Although it has so little strength, 

And little wisdom too! 

It wants a loving spirit, 

Much more than strength, to prove 
How many things a child may do 
For others by its love. 

Fanny van Alstyne 


173 



HAT does little birdie say 
In her nest at peep of day? 
Let me fly, says little birdie, 
Mother, let me fly away. 
Birdie, rest a little longer, 

Till the little wings are stronger. 

So she rests a little longer, 

Then she flies away. 

What does little baby say, 

In her bed at peep of day? 

Baby says, like little birdie, 

Let me rise and fly away. 

Baby, sleep a little longer, 

Till the little limbs are stronger. 

If she sleeps a little longer, 

Baby too shall fly away. 

Lord Tennyson 



174 









TKe Gray’Doves" Answer 


HE leaves were reddening to their 
fal1 

“Coo!” said the gray doves, 
coo! 

As they sunned themselves on the garden 
wall, 

And the swallows round them flew. 
“Whither away, sweet swallows? 
Coo!” said the gray doves, “coo!” 
“Far from this land of ice and snow 
To a sunny southern clime we go, 

Where the sky is warm and bright and gay: 
Come with us, away, away! 



■75 






























The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

“Come,” they said, “to that sunny clime!” 

“Coo!” said the gray doves, “coo!” 
“You will die in this land of mist and rime. 
Where ’tis bleak the winter through. 

Come away!” said the swallows. 

“Coo!” said the gray doves, “coo! 

Oh, God in heaven,” they said, “is good; 
And little hands will give us food, 

And guard us all the winter through. 
Coo!” said the gray doves, “coo!” 

Fred . E. Weatherly 




176 


























NEVER can do it,” the little 
kite said, 

As he looked at the others high 
over his head; 

“I know I should fall if I tried to fly.” 
“Try,” said the big kite; “only try! 

Or I fear you never will learn at all.” 

But the little kite said, “I’m afraid I’ll fall.” 

The big kite nodded: “Ah, well, good-bye; 
I’m off ”; and he rose toward the tranquil sky. 
Then the little kite’s paper stirred at the sight, 
And trembling he shook himself free for flight. 
First whirling and frightened, then braver 
grown, 

Up, up he rose through the air alone, 

From “ Prose and Verse for Childrencopyright by Katharine Pyle , 
by arrangement with the American Book Company , publishers. 



M 


177 












The CHILDREN’S TREASURT 


Till the big kite looking down could see 
The little one rising steadily. 

Then how the little kite thrilled with pride, 
As he sailed with the big kite side by side! 
While far below he could see the ground, 
And the boys like small spots moving round. 
They rested high in the quiet air, 

And only the birds and clouds were there. 
“Oh, how happy I am!” the little kite cried; 
“And all because I was brave, and tried.” 

Katharine Vyle 


178 










A Christmas 
. . Story . . 


CROSS the German Ocean, 

In a country far from our own, 
Once a poor little boy, named 
Gottlieb, 

Lived with his mother alone. 



He was not large enough to work, 

And his mother could do no more 
(Though she scarcely laid her knitting 
down) 

Than keep the wolf from the door. 


She had to take her threadbare clothes, 
And turn, and patch, and darn; 







179 

























The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

For never any woman yet 
Grew rich by knitting yarn. 

And oft at night, beside her chair, 

Would Gottlieb sit, and plan 

The wonderful things he would do for her, 
When he grew to be a man. 

One night she sat and knitted. 

And Gottlieb sat and dreamed, 

When a happy fancy all at once 
Upon his vision beamed. 

’Twas only a week till Christmas 
And Gottlieb knew that then 

The Christ-Child, who was born that day. 
Sent down good gifts to men. 

But he said, “ He will never find us. 

Our home is so mean and small; 

And we, who have most need of them, 
Will get no gifts at all.” 

When all at once a happy light 
Came into his eyes so blue, 

And lighted up his face with smiles, 

As he thought what he could do. 


The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

Next day when the postman’s letters 
Came from all over the land, 

Came one for the Christ-Child, written 
In a child’s poor trembling* hand. 

You may think the postman was troubled 
What in the world to do; 

So he went to the Burgomaster, 

As the wisest man he knew. 

And when they opened the letter, 

They stood almost dismayed 

That such a little child should dare 
To ask the Lord for aid. 

Then the Burgomaster stammered 
And scarce knew what to speak, 

And hastily he brushed aside 

A drop, like a tear, from his cheek. 

Then up he spake right gruffly, 

And turned himself about: 

“This must be a very foolish boy, 

And a small one, too, no doubt.” 

A wise and learned man was he, 

Men called him good and just; 


18 r 



The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

But his wisdom seemed like foolishness 
By that weak child’s simple trust. 

Now when the morn of Christmas came 
And the long, long week was done, 

Poor Gottlieb, who could scarcely sleep, 
Rose up before the sun, 

And hastened to his mother, 

But he scarce might speak for fear, 

When he saw her wondering look, and saw 
The Burgomaster near. 

Amazed, the poor child looked, to find 
The hearth was piled with wood, 

And the table, never full before, 

Was heaped with dainty food. 

Then half to hide from himself the truth 
The Burgomaster said, 

While the mother blessed him on her knees, 
And Gottlieb shook for dread: 

“Nay, give no thanks, my worthy dame, 
To such as me for aid, 

Be grateful to your little son, 

And the Lord to whom he prayed ! ” 

182 



























































































































































The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

Then turning round to Gottlieb, 

“Your written prayer, you see, 

Came not to Whom it was addressed. 

It only came to me! 

“’Twas but a foolish thing you did. 

As you must understand; 

For though the gifts are yours, you know, 
You have them from my hand.” 

Then Gottlieb answered fearlessly, 

Where he humbly stood apart, 

“But the Christ-Child sent them all the 
same, 

He put the thought in your heart!” 

Phoebe Cary 


ATHER, we thank Thee for the 
night 

And for the pleasant morning 
light, 

For rest and food and loving care, 

And all that makes the world so fair. 

Help us to do the thing we should, 

To be to others kind and good, 

In all we do, in all we say, 

To grow more loving every day. 



U nknown 











UZZ! ” went the Bee, with a 
merry din. 

“ Who’s there?” cried the Lily, 
her cup within. 

“Your gossip, the Bee, with a tale so funny, 
To hum in your ear while you brew your 
honey; 

But you must not repeat it, for love or 
money! ” 

“ Buzz!” went the rogue, with a merry din, 

As the Lily opened and let him in. 

186 



V 







The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

“Why, Lily, I vow it’s a palace quite, 

This kitchen of yours, so warm and white, 
And such fine honey!—Now, might I venture 
To sniff for a moment, to . . . taste, to sip 
A morsel, merely to moisten my lip, 
Without incurring thereby your censure?” 
“Oh,” said the Lily, “pray eat your fill.” 

So the Bee set to work with a right good 
will; 

He fluttered and buzzed, he tried and tasted; 
Nothing was missed and nothing wasted; 
He ate and he ate—it was really funny 
To see him swallow such heaps of honey. 
He swallowed it all; and, when cups and 
platters, 

And saucers and jars, and other matters, 
Were emptied at last, and not a drop 
Remained,—“Well, now,” said the Lily, 
“ stop, 

And be sober and steady, my gossip dear, 
While you whisper, cosily, in my ear, 

That tale you promised so rare and new.” 
“Buzz!” said the Bee, and away he flew. 

Th omas Westwood 

187 



ITTLE Prince Tatters has lost 
his cap! 

Over the hedge he threw it; 
Into the water it fell with a clap— 
Stupid old thing to do it! 

Now Mother may sigh and Nurse may fume 
For the gay little cap with its eagle plume. 
“One cannot be thinking all day of such 
matters. 

Trifl es are trifles!” says little Prince Tatters. 

188 






































The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 



Little Prince Tatters has lost his coat! 

Playing, he did not need it; 

“Left it right there , by the nanny-goat, 

And nobody ever see’d it!” 

Now Mother and Nurse may search till night 
For the new little coat with its buttons bright; 
But, “Coat-sleeves, or shirt-sleeves, how little 
it matters! 

Trifles are trifles!” says little Prince Tatters. 

Little Prince Tatters has lost his ball! 

Rolled away down the street! 
Somebody’ll have to find it , that’s all, 

Before he can sleep or eat. 









The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 



Now raise the neighbourhood, 
quickly do! 

And send for the crier and constable 
too! 

“Trifles are trifles; but serious 
matters. 

They must be seen to," says Little 
Prince Tatters. 




Laura E. ‘Richards 



I90 


4r 


























HE Frost looked forth one still, 
clear night 

And whispered, “Now I shall be 
out of sight; 

So through the valley and over the height 
In silence I’ll take my way. 

I will not go on like that blustering train — 
The wind and the snow, the hail and the 
rain— 

Who make so much bustle and noise in vain; 
But I’ll be as busy as they.” 

i 9 i 























The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

Then he flew to the mountain and powdered 
its crest, 

He lit on the trees and their boughs he dressed 
With diamond beads; and over the breast 
Of the quivering lake he spread 
A coat of mail, that it need not fear 
The downward point of many a spear 
That he hung on its margin, far and near, 
Where a rock could rear its head. 

He went to the windows of those who slept, 
And over each pane, like a fairy, crept; 
Wherever he breathed, wherever he stept, 
By the light of the moon were seen 
Most beautiful things; there were flowers 
and trees, 

There were bevies of birds and swarms of bees; 
There were cities and temples and towers; 
and these 

All pictured in silver sheen. 

But he did one thing that was hardly fair; 
He went to the cupboard, and finding there 
That all had forgotten for him to prepare— 
“Now just to set them a-thinking, 


192 


The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

I’ll bite this basket of fruit,” said he, 

“This costly pitcher I’ll burst in three; 

And the glass of water they have left for me 
Shall tchick! to tell them I’m drinking.” 

Hannah Flagg Gould 



N 193 


































OTHING is quite so quiet and 
clean 

As snow that falls in the night; 
And isn’t it jolly to jump from bed 
And find the whole world white? 

It lies on the window ledges, 

It lies on the boughs of the trees, 

While sparrows crowd at the kitchen door, 
With a pitiful “If you please!" 



194 































The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

It lies on the arm of the lamp-post, 

Where the lighter’s ladder goes, 

And the policeman under it beats his arms, 
And stamps—to feel his toes; 

The butcher’s boy is rolling a ball 
To throw at the man with the coals, 
And old Mrs Ingram has fastened a piece 
Of flannel under her soles; 

No sound there is in the snowy road 
From the horses’ cautious feet, 

And all is hushed but the postman’s knocks 
Rat-tatti?ig down the street, 

Till the men come round with shovels 
To clear the snow away,— 

What a pity it is that when it falls 
They never let it stay! 

Rickman Mark 


»95 










WENTY, forty, sixty, eighty, 

A hundred years ago, 

All through the night with lantern 
bright 

The Watch trudged to and fro. 

And little boys tucked snug abed 
Would wake from dreams to hear— 
“Two o’ the morning by the clock, 

And the stars a-shining clear!” 

Or when across the chimney-tops 
Screamed shrill a North-east gale, 

A faint and shaken voice would shout, 
“Three! and a storm of hail!” 

IValter de la Mare 

196 























LL the Saturdays met one day 
(Each was very polite, they say), 
They shook each other by the hand, 
And had a party in Fairyland! 

They wouldn’t let any Monday in, 

And not one Tuesday at all could win 
Her way past the supercilious crowd! 

And Wednesdays—why, they weren’t 
allowed! 

Thursdays could only stand in the street 
And look through the door at the things 
to eat! 

And the Fridays and Sundays pretended 
they 

Didn’t like parties, anyway! 



197 





















The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

But the Saturdays had the greatest fun! 

They played ‘Hop-scotch’ and ‘Run-sheep- 
run,’ 

And ‘Frog-in-the-Meadow,’ and ‘Pull-away!’ 

And everything else they wanted to play! 

They used the Throne for ‘Musical Chairs’ 

As if the Fairy Queen’s house were theirs! 

In rooms enchanted they ran and hid, 

And whatever they wished they could do, 
they did! 

And after they’d played and played and 
played, 

They had pink straws in their lemonade! 

And the cookies and tarts were like a dream! 

And all the Saturdays had ice-cream! 

I’d my doubts when I heard—And you have 
yours — 

But strange things happen on Foreign 
Shores! 

And they say that the best fete ever planned 

Was the Saturdays’ party in Fairyland! 

M. C. Uavies 


198 





HUSH thee, my babie, thy sire 
was a knight, 

Thy mother a lady, both lovely 
and bright; 

The woods and the glens, from the towers 
which we see, 

They all are belonging, dear babie, to thee. 



O, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows, 
It calls but the warders that guard thy 
repose; 


199 



















The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

Their bows would be bended, their blades 
would be red, 

Ere the step of a foeman drew near to thy 
bed. 

O, hush thee, my babie, the time soon will 
come 

When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet 
and drum; 

Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while 
you may, 

For strife comes with manhood, and waking 
with day. 

Sir Walter Scott 



200 












WEE little nut lay deep in its nest 
Of satin and down, the softest and 
best; 

And slept and grew, while its 
cradle rocked. 

As it hung in the boughs that interlocked. 





Now the house was small where the cradle 

by, 

As it swung in the wind by night and day; 
For a thicket of underbrush fenced it round, 
This little lone cot by the great sun browned. 

201 



























The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

The little nut grew, and ere long it found 
There was work outside on the soft green 
ground; 

It must do its part so the world might know 
It had tried one little seed to sow. 

And soon the house that had kept it warm 
Was tossed about by the winter’s storm; 
The stem was cracked, the old house fell, 
And the chestnut burr was an empty shell. 

But the little seed, as it waiting lay, 
Dreamed a wonderful dream from day to day, 
Of how it should break its coat of brown, 
And live as a tree to grow up and down. 

Unknown 



202 


l 







E is not John the gardener, 
And yet the whole day long 
Employs himself most usefully 
The flower-beds among. 

He is not Tom the pussy-cat; 

And yet the other day, 

With stealthy stride and glistening eye, 
He crept upon his prey, 

He is not Dash, the dear old dog, 

And yet, perhaps, if you 
Took pains with him and petted him, 
You’d come to love him too. 



203 

















The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

He’s not a blackbird though he chirps, 
And though he once was black; 

And now he wears a loose, grey coat, 
All wrinkled on the back. 

He’s got a very dirty face, 

And very shining eyes! 

He sometimes comes and sits indoors; 
He looks—and p’r’aps is—wise. 


But in a sunny flower-bed 
He has his fixed abode; 

H e eats the things that eat my plants— 

He is a friendly Toad. 

Juliana Horatia Ewing 



204 











LITTLE fairy comes at night, 
Her eyes are blue, her hair is 
brown 

With silver spots upon her wings. 
And from the moon she flutters down. 


She has a little silver wand. 

And when a good child goes to bed 
She waves her hand from right to left, 
And makes a circle round its head. 


\ 


205 


















The CHILDREN’S TREASURT 

And then it dreams of pleasant things, 

Of fountains filled with fairy fish, 

And trees that bear delicious fruit, 

And bow their branches at a wish: 

Of arbours filled with dainty scents 
From lovely flowers that never fade; 

Bright flies that glitter in the sun, 1 
And glow-worms shining in the shade; 

And talking birds with gifted tongues 
For singing songs and telling tales, 

And pretty dwarfs to show the way 
Through fairy hills and fairy dales. 

But when a bad child goes to bed, 

From left to right she weaves her rings 

And then it dreams all through the night 
Of only ugly horrid things! 

Then lions come with glaring eyes, 

And tigers growl, a dreadful noise, 

And ogres draw their cruel knives, 

To shed the blood of girls and boys. 


















































The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

Then stormy waves rush on to drown, 

Or raging flames come scorching round, 
Fierce dragons hover in the air, 

And serpents crawl along the ground. 

Then wicked children wake and weep, 
And wish the long black gloom away; 
But good ones love the dark, and find 
The night as pleasant as the day. 

\ Thomas Hood 



20 8 




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MJ 


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1 






OW sweet is the shepherd’s 
sweet lot: [strays; 

From the morn to the evening he 


He shall follow his sheep all the day. 
And his tongue shall be filled with 
praise. 

For he hears the lambs’ innocent call, 
And he hears the ewes’ tender reply; 
He is watchful while they are in peace, 
For they know when their shepherd 
IS nigh. H^iUiam “Blake 


209 
















































-fr 


4r- 





(StyTTtCx 


ITTLE lamb, who made thee? 
Dost thou know who made thee, 
Gave thee life, and bade thee feed 
By the stream and o’er the mead; 
Gave thee clothing of delight, 

Softest clothing, woolly, bright; 

Gave thee such a tender voice. 
Making all the vales rejoice ? 

Little lamb, who made thee ? 

Dost thou know who made thee ? 



210 














The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

Little lamb, I’ll tell thee; 

Little lamb, I’ll tell thee; 

H e is called by thy name, 

For He calls Himself a lamb; 

H e is meek and He is mild, 

He became a little child. 

I a child and thou a lamb, 

We are called by His name. 

Little lamb, God bless thee! 

Little lamb, God bless thee! 

'Blake 














a pa.la.se or peapl and ^ea-weed 
cJet pourxd witk wdiininej ,yiiel]j\ 
Undep tke deeper of tke oeea^v , 
tKe little rea ppineejv dwellj*. 


212 


From “Prose and Verse for Childrencopyright by Katharine Pyle, 
by arrangement with the American Book Company, publishers. 





















































































The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

Sometimes she sees the shadows 
Of great whales passing by, 

Or white-winged vessels sailing 
Between the sea and sky. 

And when through the waves she rises, 
Beyond the breakers’ roar 

She hears the shouts of the children 
At play on the sandy shore; 

Or sees the ships’ sides tower 
Above like a wet black wall; 

Or shouts to the roaring breakers, 

And answers the sea-gull’s call. 

But down in the quiet waters 
Better she loves to play. 

Making a sea-weed garden. 

Purple and green and gray ; 

Stringing with pearls a necklace, 

Or learning curious spells 

From the water witch, gray and ancient, 
And hearing the tales she tells. 

Out in the stable her sea-horse 
Champs in his crystal stall, 




The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

And fishes with scales that glisten 
Come leaping forth at her call. 

So the little princess 

Is busy and happy all day, 

Just as the human children 
Are busy and happy at play. 

And when the darkness gathers 
Over the lonely deep. 

On a bed of velvet sea-weed 
The princess is rocked to sleep. 

Katharine Tyle 

















at home alone I sit 
And am very tired of it, 

I have just to shut my eyes 
To go sailing through the skies 
To go sailing far away 
To the pleasant Land of Play; 
To the fairy land afar 
Where the Little People are; 


216 













The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

Where the clover-tops are trees, 

And the rain-pools are the seas, 

And the leaves like little ships 
Sail about on tiny trips; 

And above the daisy-tree 
Through the grasses, 

High o’erhead the Bumble Bee 
Hums and passes. 

In that forest to and fro 
I can wander, I can go; 

See the spider and the fly, 

And the ants go marching by, 
Carrying parcels with their feet 
Down the green and grassy street. 

I can in the sorrel sit, 

Where the ladybird aht. 

I can climb the jointed grass; 

And on high 

See the greater swallows pass 
In the sky, 

And the round sun rolling by 
Heeding no such things as I. 

Through that forest I can pass 
Till, as in a looking-glass, 

217 







The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

Humming fly and daisy-tree 
And my tiny self I see, 

Painted very clear and neat 
On the rain-pool at my feet. 

Should a leaflet come to land 
Drifting near to where I stand, 

Straight I’ll board that tiny boat 
Round the rain-pool sea to float. 

Little thoughtful creatures sit 
On the grassy coasts of it; 

Little things with lovely eyes 
See me sailing with surprise. 

Some are clad in armour green— 
(These have sure to battle been!)— 
Some are pied with ev’ry hue, 

Black and crimson, gold and blue; 
Some have wings and swift are gone;— 
But they all look kindly on. 

When my eyes I once again 
Open, and see all things plain: 

High bare walls, great bare floor; 

Great big knobs on drawer and door; 
Great big people, perched on chairs. 
Stitching tucks and mending tears, 
Each a hill that I could climb, 






































































The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 


And talking nonsense all the time — 

O dear me 
That I could be 
A sailor on the rain-pool sea, 

A climber in the clover-tree, 

And just come back, a sleepy-head, 

Late at night to go to bed. 

Robert Louis Stevenson 



220 

























































































































































































U5. &n<3 

arperfep 


HE sun was shining on the sea, 
Shining with all his might: 

He did his very best to make 
The billows smooth and bright— 
And this was odd, because it was 
The middle of the night. 



221 

















f 


The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

The moon was shining sulkily, 
Because she thought the sun 

Had got no business to be there 
After the day was done— 

“ It’s very rude of him,” she said, 

“ To come and spoil the fun ! ” 

The sea was wet as wet could be, 
The sands were dry as dry. 

You could not see a cloud, because 
No cloud was in the sky: 

No birds were flying overhead— 
There were no birds to fly. 

The Walrus and the Carpenter 
Were walking close at hand : 

They wept like anything to see 
Such quantities of sand : 

“ If this were only cleared away,” 
They said, “ it would be grand ! ” 

“ If seven maids with seven mops 
Swept it for half a year, 

Do you suppose,” the Walrus said, 
“ That they could get it clear ? ” 

“ I doubt it,” said the Carpenter, 
And shed a bitter tear. 


222 






























The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 


“O Oysters, come and walk with us!” 

The Walrus did beseech. 

“A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk, 

Along the briny beach : 

We cannot do with more than four, 

To give a hand to each.” 

The eldest Oyster looked at him, 

But never a word he said: 

The eldest Oyster winked his eye, 

And shook his heavy head— | 

Meaning to say he did not choose 
To leave the oyster-bed. 

But four young oysters hurried up, 

All eager for the treat: 

Their coats were brushed, their faces washed, 
Their shoes were clean and neat— 

And this was odd, because, you know, 
They hadn’t any feet. 

Four other Oysters followed them, 

And yet another four; 

And thick and fast they came at last, 

And more, and more, and more— 

All hopping through the frothy waves, 

And scrambling to the shore. 

224 


\ 





224 



































































The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

The Walrus and the Carpenter 
Walked on a mile or so, 

And then they rested on a rock 
Conveniently low: 

And all the little Oysters stood 
And waited in a row. 

“The time has come,” the Walrus said, 
“To talk of many things: 

Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax— 
Of cabbages—and kings— 

And why the sea is boiling hot— 

And whether pigs have wings.” 

“But wait a bit,” the Oysters cried, 
“Before we have our chat; 

For some of us are out of breath, 

And all of us are fat!” 

“No hurry!” said the Carpenter. 

They thanked him much for that. 

“A loaf of bread,” the Walrus said, 

“Is what we chiefly need: 

Pepper and vinegar besides 
Are very good indeed— 

Now, if you’re ready, Oysters dear, 

We can begin to feed.” 


p 


225 


The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

“But not on us ! ” the Oysters cried. 
Turning a little blue. 

“After such kindness, that would be 
A dismal thing to do ! ” 

“The night is fine,” the Walrus said. 
“Do you admire the view ? 

“It was so kind of you to come! 

And you are very nice ! ” 

The Carpenter said nothing but 
“Cut us another slice. 

I wish you were not quite so deaf— 
I’ve had to ask you twice ! ” 

“It seems a shame,” the Walrus said, 
“To play them such a trick 
After we’ve brought them out so far, 
And made them trot so quick ! ” 
The Carpenter said nothing but 
“The butter’s spread too thick ! ” 

“I weep for you,” the Walrus said : 

“I deeply sympathize,” 

With sobs and tears he sorted out 
Those of the largest size, 

Holding his pocket-handkerchief 
Before his streaming eyes. 


226 






The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

“O Oysters,” said the Carpenter, 
“You’ve had a pleasant run! 

Shall we be trotting home again ? ” 

But answer came there none— 

And this was scarcely odd, because 
They’d eaten every one. 

Lewis Carroll 


227 





















ND where have you been, my Mary, 
And where have you been from 
me?” 

“ I’ve been to the top of the Caldon 



Low, 

The midsummer-night to see!” 


228 























7 he CHILDREN’S TREASURE 



“And what did you see, my Mary, 

All up on the Caldon Low?” 

“I saw the glad sunshine come down, 
And I saw the merry winds blow.” 

“And what did you hear, my Mary, 

All up on the Caldon Hill?” 

“I heard the drops of the waters made, 
And the ears of the green corn fill.” 

“Oh! tell me all, my Mary, 

All, all that ever you know; 

For you must have seen the fairies 
Last night on the Caldon Low.” 

“Then take me on your knee, mother; 
And listen, mother of mine. 

A hundred fairies danced last night, 
And the harpers they were nine. 

“And their harp-strings rang so merrily 
To their dancing feet so small; 

But oh! the words of their talking 
Were merrier far than all.” 






The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

“And what were the words, my Mary, 
That then you heard them say?” 

“I’ll tell you all, my mother; 

But let me have my way. 

“Some of them played with the water, 
And rolled it down the hill; 

‘And this,’ they said, ‘shall speedily turn 
The poor old miller’s mill: 

“ ‘For there has been no water 
Ever since the first of May; 

And a busy man will the miller be 
At dawning of the day. 

“‘Oh! the miller, how he will laugh 
When he sees the mill-dam rise! 

The jolly old miller, how he will laugh, 
Till the tears fill both his eyes!’ 

“And some they seized the little winds 
That sounded over the hill; 

And each put a horn into his mouth, 
And blew both loud and shrill; 


230 



230 










The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

And there,’ they said, ‘ the merry winds go, 
Away from every horn; 

And they shall clear the mildew dank 
From the blind old widow’s corn. 

“‘Oh! the poor blind widow, 

Though she has been blind so long, 

She’ll be blithe enough when the mildew’s 
gone, 

And the corn stands tall and strong.’ 

“And some they brought the brown lint-seed, 
And flung it down from the Low; 

‘And this,’ they said, ‘by the sunrise, 

In the weaver’s croft shall grow. 

“‘Oh! the poor lame weaver, 

H ow he will laugh outright, 

When he sees his dwindling flax-field 
All full of flowers by night!’ 

“And then outspoke a brownie, 

With a long beard on his chin; 

‘I have spun up all the tow,’ said he, 

‘And I want some more to spin. 


231 


The CHILDREN'S TREASURY 

“‘I’ve spun a piece of hempen cloth, 
And I want to spin another; 

A little sheet for Mary’s bed, 

And an apron for her mother.’ 

“With that I could not help but laugh, 
And I laughed out loud and free; 

And then on the top of the Caldon Low 
There was no one left but me. 

“And all on the top of the Caldon Low 
The mists were cold and grey, 

And nothing I saw but the mossy stones 
That round about me lay. 

“But coming down from the hill-top, 

I heard afar below 

How busy the jolly miller was 
And how the wheel did go. 

“And I peeped into the widow’s field. 
And, sure enough, were seen 

The yellow ears of the mildewed corn, 
All standing stout and green. 


232 


The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 



“And down to the weaver’s croft I stole, 
To see if the flax were sprung; 

But I met the weaver at his gate, 

With the good news on his tongue. 

“Now this is all I heard, mother, 

And all that I did see; 

So, pr’ythee, make my bed, mother, 

For I’m tired as I can be.” 

Mary Howitt 



233 


* 






































F I had a broomstick, and knew how 
to ride it. 

I’d fly through the windows when 
Jane goes to tea, 

And over the tops of the chimneys I’d guide it, 
To lands where no children are cripples like me; 
I’d run on the rocks with the crabs and the sea, 
Where soft red anemones close when you touch; 
If I had a broomstick, and knew how to ride it, 
If I had a broomstick—instead of a crutch ! 

Patrick 7 ?. Chalmers 



234 
























































































































AID old Gentleman Gay, “On a 
Thanksgiving Day, 

If you want a good time, then give 
something away”; 

So he sent a fat turkey to Shoemaker Price, 
And the Shoemaker said, “What a big 
bird! how nice! 

And, since a good dinner s before me, I 
ought 

To give poor Widow Lee the small chicken 
I bought.” 



























The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

“This fine chicken, O see!” said the pleased 
Widow Lee, 

“And the kindness that sent it, how precious 
to me! 

I would like to make some one as happy as I— 

I’ll give Washwoman Biddy my big pump- 
kin pie. 

“And O, sure,” Biddy said, “’tis the queen 
of all pies! 

Just to look at its yellow face gladdens my 
eyes! 

Now it’s my turn, I think; and a sweet 
ginger cake 

For the motherless Finigan Children I’ll 
bake.” 

“A sweet-cake, all our own! ’Tis too good 
to be true!” 

Said the Finigan Children, Rose, Denny, 
and Hugh; 

“It smells sweet of spice, and we’ll carry a slice 

To poor little Lame Jake—who has nothing 
that’s nice.” 


237 












































































The CHILDREN'S TREASURT 

“O, I thank you, and thank you!” said little 
Lame Jake; 

“O what bootiful, bootiful, bootiful cake! 
And O, such a big slice! I will save all the 
crumbs, 

And will give ’em to each little Sparrow 
that comes!” 


And the Sparrows they twittered, as if they 
would say, 

Like old Gentleman Gay, “On a Thanks¬ 
giving Day, 

If you want a good time, then give some¬ 
thing away!” 

Marian T)ouglas 



239 









d 



& 



L 


IS a lesson you should heed, 
Try again; 

If at first you don’t succeed, 
Try again; 


Then your courage should appear, 
For if you will persevere. 

You will conquer, never fear. 

Try again. 


Once or twice, though you should fail. 
Try again; 

If you would at last prevail, 

Try again; 


240 













The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

If we strive, ’tis no disgrace 
Though we do not win the race; 

What should we do in that case ? 

Try again. 

If you find your task is hard, 

Try again; 

Time will bring you your reward, 

Try again; 

All that other folk can do, 

Why, with patience, may not you ? 
Only keep this rule in view, 

Try again. E. Hickson 



Q 


241 










AtNi§kf irvthe ^oocl 


HEN night comes down on the 
children’s eyes 
And all in the house is still. 
For busy folk it is time to rise 
In the Wood Land over the hill. 

There are those who wake when the moon 
is high; 

They have slept for the whole long day. 
With a silent shake or a call or cry. 

They are off on the trail away. 

The Owl, who hides from the sunlight’s 
beam, 

Hark !—there is his ‘Too-hoo-hoo !’ 

The Vole who lives by the gurgling stream 
Steals out in the darkness too. 



242 














The CHILDREN'S TREASURT 

The Stoat, the Rat, 

And the squeaking Bat 
All open their keen little eyes 

I And rise. 

And the Hedgehog peeps from his cosy 
nest 

And hurries out with the rest. 

The bark of the Fox shows he’s astir. 

And the Rabbit shivers within his fur, 
And the sleepy old Dormouse wakes at 
last— 

There s none in the wood can move so fast. 
Each one on his trail is off away 
And never comes back till the dawn of day. 
Oh, when in the night the moon is high 
And the stars look down from the dusty 
sky, 

If we crept out—if we only could!— 

What wonderful things we should see in 
the wood ! 

Nancy M . Hayes 


243 







HEN in my youth I travelled 
Throughout each north countrie, 
Many a strange thing did I hear, 
And many a strange thing see. 


244 


































The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

I sat with small men in their huts. 

Built of the drifted snow; 

No fire had we but the seal-oil lamp, 

Nor other light did know. 

For far and wide the plains were lost 
For months in the winter dark; 

And we heard the growl of the hungry bear, 
And the blue fox’s bark. 

But when the sun rose redly up 
To shine for half a year, 

Round and round through the skies to sail, 
Nor once to disappear, 

Then on I went, with curious eyes, 

And saw where, like to man, 

The beaver built his palaces; 

And where the ermine ran. 

But nothing was there that pleased me more 
Than when, in autumn brown, 

I came, in the depths of the pathless woods. 
To the Grey Squirrels’ town. 


HS 










The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

There were hundreds that in the hollow boles 
Of the old, old trees did dwell, 

And laid up store, hard by their door. 

Of the sweet mast as it fell. 

But soon the hungry wild swine came, 

And with thievish snouts dug up 

Their buried treasure, and left them not 
So much as an acorn-cup! 

Then did they chatter in angry mood. 

And one and all decree 

Into the forests of rich stone-pine 
Over hill and dale to flee. 

Over hill and dale, over hill and dale, 

For many a league they went, 

Like a troop of undaunted travellers 
Governed by one consent. 

But the hawk and eagle, and peering owl. 
Did dreadfully pursue; 

And the further the Grey Squirrels went. 
The more their perils grew; 

When lo! to cut off their pilgrimage, 

A broad stream lay in view. 

246 



The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

But then did each wondrous creature show 
His cunning and bravery; 

With a piece of the pine-bark in his mouth, 
Unto the stream came he, 


And boldly his little bark he launched, 
Without the least delay; 

His bushy tail was his upright sail 
And he merrily steered away. 

Never was there a lovelier sight 
Than that Grey Squirrels’ fleet; 

And with anxious eyes I watched to see 
What fortune it would meet. 

I Soon had they reached the rough mid-stream, 
And ever and anon 

I grieved to behold some little bark wrecked, 
And its little steersman gone. 

But the main fleet stoutly held across; 

I saw them leap to shore; 

They entered the woods with a cry of joy, 
For their perilous march was o’er. 

William Howitt 


247 





AID the Wind to the Moon, “I 
will blow you out; 

You stare 
In the air 

Like a ghost in a chair, 
Always looking what I am about— 

I hate to be watched; I’ll blow you out.” 

The Wind blew hard, and out went the 
Moon. 

So, deep 

On a heap 

Of clouds to sleep, 

Down lay the Wind, and slumbered soon, 
Muttering low, “I’ve done for that Moon.” 










The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

He turned in his bed; she was there again! 
On high 
In the sky. 

With her one ghost eye, 

The Moon shone white and alive and plain. 
Said the Wind,“I will blow you out again.” 

The Wind blew hard, and the Moon grew 
dim. 

“ With my sledge 
And my wedge, 

I have knocked off her edge! 

If only I blow right fierce and grim, 

The creature will soon be dimmer than dim.” 

He blew and he blew, and she thinned to 
thread. 

“ One puff 
More’s enough 
To blow her to snuff! 

One good puff more where the last was 
bred, 

And glimmer, glimmer, glum will go the 
thread.” 

H9 








The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

He blew a great blast, and the thread was 
gone. 

In the air 
Nowhere 

Was a moonbeam bare; 

Far off and harmless the shy stars shone— 
Sure and certain the Moon was gone! 

The Wind he took to his revels once more; 
On down, 

In town, 

Like a merry-mad clown, 

He leaped and hallooed with whistle and 
roar— 

“What’s that?” the glimmering thread 
once more! 

He flew in a rage—he danced and blew; 
But in vain 
Was the pain 
Of his bursting brain ; 

For still the broader the Moon-scrap grew, 
The broader he swelled his big cheeks and 
blew. 


The CHILDREN’S TREASURY 

Slowly she grew—till she filled the night, 
And shone 
On her throne 
In the sky alone, 

A matchless, wonderful silvery light, 
Radiant and lovely, the queen of the night. 

Said the Wind: “What a marvel of power 
am I! 

With my breath. 

Good faith! 

I blew her to death— 

First blew her away right out of the sky— 
Then blew her in; what strength have I!” 

But the Moon she knew nothing about 
the affair; 

For high 
In the sky, 

With her one white eye, 
Motionless, miles above the air, 

She had never heard the great Wind blare. 

George MacUonald 









A Lie-awake Song 

HE moonlight is shining 

So white through my window. 
The moon has been walking 
All night through the sky, 
The way that my mother 
Comes walking on tiptoe, 

When I’m thinking how slowly 
The dark’s going by. 



252 








The CHILDREN’S TREASURE 

The Sun is the father, 

The Moon is the mother, 

And the stars are the children 
Awake in the night. 

She stoops down to kiss them 
And tuck in the covers, 

And when she is going 
She leaves them her light. 

Amelia Josephine 'Burr 
















rosy clouds float overhead, 
The sun is going down; 

And now the Sandman’s gentle 
tread 

Comes stealing through the town. 











The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

“White sand, white sand,” he softly cries, 
And as he shakes his hand. 

Straightway there lies on babies’ eyes 
His gift of shining sand. 

Blue eyes, gray eyes, black eyes and brown, 
As shuts the rose, they softly close, when he 
goes through the town. 

From sunny beaches far away— 

Yes, in another land— 

He gathers up at break of day 
His store of shining sand. 

No tempests beat that shore remote. 

No ships may sail that way; 

His little boat alone may float 
Within that lovely bay. 

Blue eyes, gray eyes, black eyes and brown. 
As shuts the rose, they softly close, when he 
goes through the town. 

He smiles to see the eyelids close 
Above the happy eyes; 

And every child right well he knows,— 
Oh, he is very wise! 






The CHILDREN'S TREASURE 

6r c~o - 1 ^ 

But if, as he goes through the land, 

A naughty baby cries, 

H is other hand takes dull gray sand 
To close the wakeful eyes. 

Blue eyes, gray eyes, black eyes and brown, 
As shuts the rose, they softly close, when he 
goes through the town. 

So when you hear the Sandman’s song 
Sound through the twilight sweet 
Be sure you do not keep him long 
A-waiting in the street. 

Lie softly down, dear little head, 

Rest quiet, busy hands, 

Till, by your bed his good-night said, 

He strews the shining sands. 

Blue eyes, gray eyes, black eyes and brown, 
As shuts the rose, they softly close, when he 
goes through the town. 

Margaret Vandegrift 











































































